


No Way To Treat A Lady

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-08
Updated: 2006-03-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer and T'Pol are invited to a first contact on a far off planet. Soon, T'Pol begins to feel there is something wrong about the planet and has to convince Archer of her suspicions. (07/31/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: 1.03 "Fight Or Flight," 1.08 "Breaking The Ice," 1.17 "Fusion," 2.07 "The Seventh," 2.08 "The Communicator," 2.11 "Precious Cargo," 2.20 "Horizon."  


* * *

T'Pol continued to scan her instruments while Archer gazed out the shuttle window as they made their descent to the planet. Now and then she looked out the porthole too. She was surprised by how Earth-like it seemed with large areas of water and vegetation. Very unlike her native Vulcan with its red sun, deserts and seething volcanoes.

"Breathable oxygen-nitrogen mix, a bit heavier than our ship's air," T'Pol said without looking up.

"After a few minutes, we should get used to it." When Archer didn't reply she glanced over at him. He seemed to be concentrating on the scenery as they glided over top of some green shrubbery toward a large walled town. "Sir, our co-ordinates will place us just in front of those walls. I'm reading life forms within that city but nothing outside it."

Archer finally noticed she was speaking. "Sorry, T'Pol. I was just enjoying the sight of all that greenery and water after so long in space. It'll feel great to have solid ground under my feet again." He sighed heavily and T'Pol mentally shrugged. Rhapsodizing and getting emotional over an alien planet. What did it matter what the planet looked like as long as it supported its lifeforms? Still, she reminded herself, humans let themselves be moved by the strangest things such as that smelly quadruped which the captain kept in his quarters. That was one thing she would never understand, how he could be so attached to a creature that had no speech or logic, but was unfailingly either at a fever pitch of emotions or asleep or begging for food. The creature seemed to want something from her every time she came near it, brushing by her legs or trying to climb into her lap. It even sat up on its hind legs and lolled its tongue at her which she found disgusting. The animal had no dignity or consciousness of how silly it looked. Even when Archer laughed at it, the dog reacted with gratitude, wagging its tail.

She switched off that line of thought and concentrated on assisting Archer to land the shuttle. Ahead, she could see a large gate that seemed to be the entrance to the city. An apprehension niggled at her as they slowed then dropped onto the ground on the exact co-ordinates they were given. Why would an entire population live behind walls? What was outside those walls that might be threatening?

T'Pol was about to voice her concern to Archer when the town gates opened and a procession came toward their craft. There were about a dozen military types escorting an elegantly dressed man who was followed by another smaller man. Their leader carried a large wand or cane, and was dressed in a long red vest that touched the ground. Under his vest, he wore a loose fitting grey robe. His  
companion wore a dark jacket and trousers; his head was topped by a flattish hat with a red tassel that bobbed as he walked.

"That looks like our reception committee," Archer said as he shut down the engines and pressed the button to open the hatch. "Just think, T'Pol, we're the first Star Fleet vessel to visit this planet. It's quite an honour to have been invited." As he grinned at her, excitement flashed in his eyes. He rose and began to make his way aft toward the hatch.

T'Pol nearly grabbed his arm to hold him back. She could not place what was bothering her, but felt she should warn the captain. It's illogical of me to let some vague suspicion interfere with this first contact, she decided as she followed him to the rear of the craft then out onto the surface. I will gather  
more data before I make an statement about this ...this odd presentiment. Humans are sometimes surprisingly astute and other times incredibly obtuse. She had seen both of these traits in the captain and other members of the crew, especially Commander Tucker. She would remain wary for the two days of their ambassadorial visit.

Much was expected from this mission. The Cepharans had contacted Star Fleet with a message that had taken several years travelling through space before it was picked up by the array of radio telescopes on Earth. When it finally did arrive, the Enterprise was the nearest starship to the planet Cephara. The scientists on the planet had been beaming messages for a long time hoping for a contact from another lifeform, their coded message had said. They wanted to develop peaceful  
relations with other species but had no space travel themselves. The Cepharans offered their planet as a way station for starships of other races and trade in their many minerals. Star Fleet and the Vulcan High Command decided this overture was worth investigating. It had taken nearly a month for the Enterprise to arrive near Cephara and settle into orbit.

As she stood outside under the planet's weak sun, T'Pol wondered about the advisability of leaving Tucker in charge of the Enterprise. The commander was too emotional, too hot-headed for such responsibility. Yet, Archer had left his ship in Tucker's hands. I would not have, but then I am not the captain, T'Pol thought as she moved toward the assembled dignitaries.

The robed one who seemed to be their leader stepped out of the group. T'Pol was fascinated by his tall lean physical stature which was emphasised by his clothes. He towered several inches over the captain. Even more interesting were his ears which flopped over the hearing cavities on the sides of his head. It reminded her of Porthos, Archer's dog and she experienced an un-Vulcan-like urge to smile. The muted orange sun tinted his white skin as it did her own, making it seem warm. For a moment, T'Pol thought of the red sun on her planet; its violent colour at odds with the coolness and rationality of the Vulcans. We were not always able to resist the influence of that blood-red sun, she recalled. An errant thought flitted through her mind and she made a mental note to follow it up. What influence does the colour of the planet's sun have on its life forms, especially the sentient ones? That might make an interesting paper to send back to the Vulcan Science Academy.

Archer strode forward and stopped in front of their host. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer, and this is my science officer, Sub-commander T'Pol. We are from the Starship Enterprise which is now in orbit around your planet."

T'Pol turned on the intergalactic translator which had been programmed for the Cepharan language based on their beamed messages. Archer's statement came out in a volley of strange words with an odd cadence. T'Pol hoped that Hoshi had programmed it correctly as she eyed the armed guards warily. It wouldn't do to insult their leader.

The tall robed man nodded several times and held up his hand. "I am Toluc, First Minister of the nation of Flaeron. In the name of my people, I welcome you. May your visit be memorable and our negotiations fruitful." Though his words were in the same guttural tongue as Archer's translated message, T'Pol heard it in English. She breathed a little more easily. At least this much was going right...  
so far. The feeling that something was not right stayed with her and even became stronger.

"If you will follow me, Captain Archer and Sub-commander T'Pol, I will have my aides take you to your quarters where you may rest after your long journey. We plan a feast in your honour when the sun has set." With that, he turned and began to move back through the military guard toward the open gates of the city.

Archer gave her a quick excited glance then followed. T'Pol trailed a few steps behind, watching his back. The military did not seem hostile but she kept herself mentally prepared, just in case. Their clothing was similar to Toluc's aide, dark close-fitting jackets and trousers, with no pockets or fastenings that she could see. Their weapons looked to be made of a light shiny material but T'Pol could not discern what sort of bullet or other projectile they might use. For a moment, she wished she could turn on the scanner which she had hanging from her utility belt, but decided they might think it was a weapon. Once inside her quarters, she would make some scans and run a few tests.  
Meanwhile, she observed as much as possible as the entourage moved through the city toward a large ornate building. The streets were lined with many people, all with the same odd ear flaps and dressed in dark grey outfits similar to those worn by the military. The crowd raised their hands in welcome and uttered some grumbling, guttural sounds that seemed to be friendly.

T'Pol found herself the object of their curiosity, even more so than the captain. She felt the eyes of the gathering pressing upon her as if she was a creature in a zoo. As she passed, she noted there seemed to be no females in the crowd. This must be a patriarchal society where the women are kept secluded  
or are not allowed in public, she thought, a trifle irritated. She had heard of such societies but had little respect for them. It was illogical and inefficient to keep half the gender in subservience. On Vulcan, women were the equals of men in every way. She mentally shrugged off their curiosity. 'They've never seen a Vulcan before.'

As the small parade mounted the steps toward a pair of tall open doors, First Minister Toluc stopped and turned, raising his hands toward the crowd. T'Pol took a weary deep breath. It seemed he planned to make a speech to his people. She only hoped it would not be too long; the growing sense of wrongness kept her tense, ready for anything.

"People of Flaeron," he began. "This is a truly auspicious day, a day we have long hoped for. Contact has been made with other civilizations..." A great roar rolled toward them from the crowd, unsettling T'Pol even more. Toluc continued and T'Pol tuned him out as she surveyed the large gathering, her eyes darting everywhere along the street watching for anything suspicious.

We should have brought some weapons, she thought then dismissed the idea as illogical. You don't bring weapons to a peaceful negotiation. Besides, Tucker was likely monitoring the planet and Sato would be checking all communications. Nevertheless, a slight shiver ran through her like a cool wind had blown across her skin.

A glance at the captain showed he was intrigued by the town and its people. Nothing on his face indicated that he might be nervous or feared any problems. Like children, T'Pol thought, a little disappointed, they are so naive when it comes to other civilizations. They take them at face value, unlike Vulcans who are much more sensitive and highly evolved. We would never have agreed to send  
only two, unguarded officers from a ship. It would be illogical to risk our most important people by sending them into an unknown situation. Yet that is exactly what Star Fleet does continuously. It is no wonder that the High Command was in favour of having a Vulcan on Enterprise.

A little guiltily she thought of the transmissions she had sent during the first few months of her mission with the ship. At that time, she had thought it would be a brief mission and she would be returned to Vulcan to fulfil the betrothal with Koss. Why had she broken the agreement which had been made when she was a child? Indeed, Koss was the logical choice for her as both families had agreed to it. But I did not, she thought now. I was not given a choice, nor was Koss. Humans choose their own mates as I have seen. Their mating rituals seem involved and yet simple. It seems to occupy an inordinate amount of time and consume much emotion. All things considered, T'Pol decided the Vulcan way was better, especially since Pon Farr only occurred every seven years and during the intervals between, the Vulcan male and female could concentrate on their work.

She realised that Toluc had ceased his long-winded speech. A great clamour of cheering battered against her sensitive ears and she forced herself not to cover them. Finally, he turned and led the small procession in through the high doors of what looked like a palace.

Following behind Toluc and Archer, T'Pol glanced with curiosity at the long, colourful banners hanging from the ceiling high above. The ceiling itself was clear; she could see the strange yellow sky through it. They seemed to be passing through a great hall toward a branching of corridors. T'Pol continued to mentally map everything just in case they needed to make a quick getaway. She couldn't shake the feeling of some mystery, something hidden below the surface of this mission.

* * *

N'Vara straightened in her chair and coolly waited as Soval entered the council chamber and took his place. Once he was seated, she rose to address the Earth project committee of the High Command. "As senior administrator, I am here to receive your reports which will be taken to the High Command for review and decision. Ambassador Soval, please make your progress report now ...and be brief. We do not have much time today."

If her remarks stung Soval, his face showed nothing, as N'Vara expected. He rose and bowed to her with what seemed like mock courtesy. "We thank the High Command for sending such an illustrious person as yourself, Commissioner N'Vara, to receive our reports."

Beneath his words, N'Vara sensed his seething contempt. Contact with humans had been her idea and her project. Soval had argued against it but in the end, was given the task of overseeing the Earth project, perhaps as a lesson in obedience to the High Command. N'Vara knew he writhed with disgust at having to deal with humans on a daily basis, yet within his own abilities, he was doing a reasonably good job. It was a matter of personal concern to her, now more than ever, that the project should succeed.

Soval opened a folder and laid some papers on the shiny table. "I will give only the highlights of the Earth project and leave the rest for you, Commissioner, to read when you have time. Our primary concern has been the starship Enterprise which was launched nearly two Earth years ago. As we feared, their contacts with other species have been difficult and have sometimes met with hostility. Years of peaceful trade and communications with those races have been strained to the breaking point by the artless and childish humans, their captain, Jonathan Archer in particular. Even placing one of our own, Sub-commander T'Pol, on the Enterprise has not ameliorated their harmful effects. In fact, as I feared, her loyalties seem to be divided. And worse, at times, she has sided with the humans  
against Vulcans." He paused and glanced around at the closed faces of the other members of the committee, returning to N'Vara.

"At first, Sub-commander T'Pol sent us reports on a regular basis. Her reports were most illuminating and confirmed my own view that humans are not ready for space travel. Of late, we have had no reports which suggests to me, that T'Pol may have changed her allegiances completely."

N'Vara had to give him points for dramatic effect. His remark landed like a bombshell, shaking even the most senior of the committee members. They sat up straighter, staring first at Soval then at N'Vara. Unable to restrain herself, she said, "Are you suggesting that T'Pol is acting against the interests of  
Vulcan ...is a traitor?"

Soval raised his hand placatingly. "Of course not. I am reiterating what I have always maintained. We are being contaminated by the irrational and emotional humans. Any Vulcan who spends time in close proximity, such as a starship, begins to lose those qualities that make us the superior race. I have seen this phenomenon many times in my years on Earth."

N'Vara suppressed the hot reply that nearly slipped out. "Perhaps, Soval, you could be more specific. As you are no doubt aware, I was against her commission as science officer on Enterprise. She is wasted there. I have higher ambitions for T'Pol. Throughout her career with the Vulcan government, she has shown herself to be completely loyal and in accord with the best interests of Vulcan. Her early assignments were all successful including the retrieval of the rebel Jossen."

He stared straight into N'Vara's eyes, an insult which she swallowed without showing her rising anger. Soval drawled, "She killed him, Commissioner N'Vara; she did not retrieve him. And her true quarry, Menos, escaped. T'Pol underwent therapy to recover from Jossen's death. I do not see that as a sign of Vulcan strength."

Drawing on her inner resources with difficulty, N'Vara said, "Continue with your report, Soval."

"Enterprise is now orbiting Cephara..."

N'Vara broke in, "Cephara! What are they doing near that planet? You know it is forbidden!"

Soval shrugged, opening his hands. "It was not my decision. Star Fleet Command sent them since the Cepharans' messages offered an opportunity for a first contact. The humans do not always consult me on these matters or I would have warned them."

His demeanour and body language suggested he was lying, but N'Vara could not dispute his word before the committee. Restraining her voice to normal, she asked, "What reports have you had? Have any of the crew landed on Cephara?"

She knew the answer before he gave it.

"The captain, Jonathan Archer and his science officer, T'Pol, took a shuttle to the surface several Earth hours ago. That is the only report I have had so far. I do not know what is happening on the planet and the officer left in charge of Enterprise, Commander Charles Tucker, seems rather taciturn when it comes to sharing information with us. I sense a deep dislike of Vulcans in the commander, the same as in his captain."

"Is it any wonder when we withhold vital information from them ...such as the dangers of planets like Cephara? You will send a message to Commander Tucker immediately that a Vulcan ship will be arriving with all due haste to take control of the situation. Do it now, Soval!"

N'Vara had not meant to be so emphatic; it made her seem emotional. The committee might question her impartiality. Was she more concerned about T'Pol or the success of Enterprise and its mission of exploration? With a modicum of satisfaction she watched Soval gather his papers, then rise with irritating slowness, and finally leave the room.

On his departure, N'Vara was met by raised eyebrows and curious looks from the men and women around the table. She knew they wanted an explanation about Cephara but she was hampered by the High Command's orders. She would give them enough to restrain any further inquiry. "Nearly one of our generations ago, there was an incident on Cephara. The High Command investigated and sealed their results. That information is classified and only available to the highest ranking officials. I cannot tell you more than that."

* * *

T'Pol passed by for what seemed like the twentieth time, wandering around the sparsely decorated quarters like a caged animal. Her brow was slightly furrowed as if she was thinking deeply, unaware of Archer watching her. At length, she opened the entrance door. Two guards immediately stood at attention. T'Pol levelled an imperious look at each soldier.

"I wish to go out and see something of the city before dinner. Let me pass." As she was about to brush by, the guards crossed their weapons, barring her way.

"We have our orders, Sub-commander. For your own safety, you must stay here until an escort is arranged for you." The soldier seemed to brace himself as if waiting for an attack. T'Pol closed the door with more force than necessary and returned to pacing the room.

From his place on the divan, the captain called to her. "T'Pol, what's bothering you?" He patted the area next to him. "Sit down, for heaven's sake. You're making me dizzy with all that pacing."

As if coming to a decision, she strode to the divan and settled beside him, practically touching his thigh with hers. Archer was a bit shocked. Vulcans avoided touch, especially human touch. Like we're contaminating them or something, he thought, knowing it was a bit churlish of him to paint them all  
with the same brush. So far, other than T'Pol and a few others, mostly the females of the species, he had no trust in Vulcans and very little respect for them, especially that sneaky bastard Soval.

His science officer had been a revelation. He would place his life in her hands without question, had done a number of times and she had never failed him. A good person to have at your back, he concluded, indirectly looking at her. And more than that, if he admitted to himself what he had been feeling lately. Her nearness was making his blood pressure rise.

Archer suppressed a smile that tried to slip across his lips. 'I hope Vulcans don't have mental telepathy. If they had, she would probably knock me on my ass for some of the thoughts I've had about her.' He felt his face warming, but was reluctant to move away from her. Would she think it was an insult? He was acutely aware of the heat radiating between them.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I wonder why they didn't give us separate quarters? I mean, it seems strange to have put us both in this one room. But then, I don't suppose they get visitors from space everyday. Maybe they think we're..." He dropped the last part of the sentence as she turned to give him that arched eyebrow look that usually infuriated him. Like he was a slow child who had said something stupid. He was getting immune to that look ...well, almost. This time, he just mentally shrugged. She obviously had something on her mind and was keeping it to herself. He settled back against the cushions, prepared to wait until she was ready to speak, if ever. Vulcans had the most  
annoying ability to out-wait humans, some kind of infinite patience gene that seemed to be wired into their genetic code. He would never get used to it, and T'Pol had that ability in spades. If she didn't want to talk, there was no moving her.

He closed his eyes, letting his weariness seep away as he sank further into the soft pillows behind him. Suddenly, he felt her hands on each side of his face, her face very near his. Her breath tickled his lips as she closed the distance between them. His eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply. What was she doing? She touched his lips lightly with hers, then lifted his hands to place them on her face.

At first he was too startled to react. His scalp prickled and he experienced a warm sensation somewhere inside his brain. Her voice came through but she was not speaking aloud. He shuddered and shook his head. But she held his face firmly in her hands and stared straight into his eyes.

"Captain Archer, do you hear me in your mind?"

He nodded, then answered mentally, 'Yes. What are you doing, T'Pol? I thought mind-melds were forbidden.'

'This is not a mind-meld, just a temporary, superficial link. Vulcans are a touch-sensitive race; we receive many sensations, including top of mind thoughts, from touch. That is why we avoid it except with our bond-mates. Do not worry. Your deeper thoughts and feelings are shielded from me, as mine are from you.' She brushed her lips across his again, then pressed her cheek to his. 'I needed to tell you something but could not speak aloud. We are being scanned and monitored in this room. That is why we were placed here together. There must be banks of equipment and cameras hidden in the walls.'

Archer was shocked then angry. 'So you've decided to put on a little show for them?'

Her grip on his head tightened, then relaxed. Archer realised he had annoyed her and it gave him a perverse pleasure. She had shown some emotion. In fact, unless it was wishful thinking, her breathing seemed more rapid, even for a Vulcan whose heart-rate tended to be faster than humans. He remembered that she was reading his thoughts and reined them in.

'What makes you think we're being monitored?' he queried.

'I have had a strange feeling about this planet ever since we landed. There is something wrong here. In addition, our communicators don't' work in this city. I have been unable to contact the ship since we arrived two hours ago.' She leaned on him more heavily as if to get more comfortable. Her warm weight was adding to his own discomfort, however. Archer forced himself to think about glaciers and the cold planet where they had apprehended Menos, anything to ignore those delicious sensations she was causing in him.

'Since entering this room, I have sensed the scanner rays. It feels like a cool breeze stirring across my skin. Do you feel anything?' T'Pol searched his eyes for an answer and Archer tried not to laugh. Her imagery caused a sudden acceleration in his pulse as he thought of raising gooseflesh on that warm skin with his cool breath. He knew immediately by her reaction that she had read that thought. She jerked back a little, then tightened her grip on his head. A warning to keep those unwanted thoughts to himself.

'Sorry. I'm only human, remember, a barbarian.' He chuckled then continued, 'It depends on what you mean by feeling anything. I don't have your sensitivity. But I have noticed an absence of women so far.'

'Yes, that is strange, but perhaps there is a logical explanation. There are cultures where women are not included in general society but are kept apart in ignorance and subservience. Cephara may have cultures of that type.'

Archer sensed beneath her coolness a fine contempt for those societies. 'We've had such cultures on Earth. In fact, as you probably know, women had to fight for centuries to get the same rights as men. Now, of course, we're considered equals.'

T'Pol moved back to look into his eyes. He was mesmerised by the darkness in hers, the mystery behind them. And a little taken aback by the cynicism he saw there fleetingly. 'On your ship, Captain Archer, who are the superior officers? All men. The only human woman on the bridge is an ensign. Now tell me again how women are equal on your planet.'

'This isn't the time to debate cultures, T'Pol. If you're right, then there may be more behind this social visit than just opening up a way station and some trade.' He was pleased to feel his heart-rate returning to normal. As long as she didn't kiss him again.

'Do not worry, I won't. I thought if I acted in a way they expected a male and a female to act in this situation, it would allay their suspicions,' she replied. He sensed a wry amusement behind her words. 'Whenever we need to talk without being overheard, this is how we can communicate. Do you agree, Captain?'

It was his turn to be amused. Who would not agree to get this close to T'Pol? He felt her mentally slap him and he laughed aloud and apologized. Archer was sure she thought he was an incorrigible libertine, just like the rest of humanity, thinking of nothing but sex most of the time.

The door chimed and Archer said, "Saved by the bell."

T'Pol rose and opened the door. The same two guards stood there with another man, the one who had accompanied the First Minister when they were met at the shuttle. He was about equal height to Archer, and was still wearing the outfit he had worn earlier. All that was added was a wide red sash across his chest with some kind of medallion pinned to it.

"I am First Medical Officer Norval. If you please follow me, dinner is being served."

* * *

"Try again!" Tucker wiped his hand across his eyes, trying to clear the fogginess caused by fatigue as he stared at the blue planet on the view screen. His nerves were frayed and he knew he was being unreasonable with Hoshi. She was doing her best. He softened his tone. "Have you tried all channels, Ensign? All frequencies?"

He heard her take a deep breath and turned to see the exasperated expression on her face. Of course she had. Personal feelings aside, she was good at her job. Tucker didn't need to hear her reply; she would have exhausted every possibility from equipment malfunction to jamming from the planet.

"Commander Tucker, I believe our signals are not getting through. I think they are being intercepted somehow within the city. I have contact with our shuttle but not with either the captain or the sub-commander." Hoshi continued tapping keys on the console and staring at her monitors. "There seems to be some kind of field within the city that bounces our signals off. Perhaps they are unaware of it."

Her worried expression only added to his own feelings of helplessness. The captain had not authorized any other away teams to land on the planet. In fact, he had explicitly said no one else would accompany himself and T'Pol until they were sure about the Cepharans and their intentions. Even now, Tucker could not say there was any hostile intent. Maybe it was just a communications problem that could be fixed.

Hoshi broke into his thoughts. "I volunteer to go down there to explain the problem and restore communications."

Tucker smiled. She had come a long way since joining the Enterprise. A year ago, she would have quailed at the idea of venturing onto an unknown planet, into possible danger. Now, she was ready to risk her own life for her superior officers. He replied, "We have orders to stay on Enterprise unless the captain says it's OK to go down there. I'll have to stick with that for now."

A signal from her station caused Hoshi to look up in surprise. "Message from Star Fleet Command for Captain Archer. It's Admiral Forrest."

Tucker hesitated then shrugged. "Put it on screen, Ensign. Maybe he's got an answer for us."

Admiral Forrest's usually affable face looked serious as his image opened on the view screen. "Commander Tucker, is Captain Archer on Enterprise?" His tone was harsh, as if he was angry.

"No, sir, Admiral. The captain and sub-commander T'Pol have been on the surface for about six hours. We ain't seen hide nor hair of 'em since. They were s'posed to check in every two hours. We bin tryin' everythin' to get through but the signals are bouncin' off the city it seems."

A loud "damn" exploded from the speaker. Forrest seemed to compose himself with difficulty. "There is something about Cephara that we weren't told. Apparently, the planet is on the Vulcan list of prohibited planets for reasons of which we were not apprised."

Angrily, Tucker blurted, "Ain't that jes' like the Vulcans? Holdin' back information that could help us! Now our captain and science officer are down there an' we can't contact 'em. Don't have any idea what's happened to 'em." Tucker straightened, and added a little sheepishly, "Excuse me, Admiral. I request permission to take a rescue team to the surface."

"Permission denied. We don't want anyone else down there at this time. A Vulcan vessel is on its way to you and should arrive in about twelve hours. Meanwhile, continue monitoring the planet and look for available landing sites, just in case."

Tucker wanted to explode. "Admiral, what are we s'posed to do, just sit on our hands 'til they get here? The one thing we don't need right now is those interferin' Vulcans! We can handle this ourselves. Hell, it's their fault we're in this spot."

The admiral smiled a little thinly. "I agree. However, Commissioner N'Vara of the High Command is on the Vulcan ship." He paused, then added, "T'Pol is her daughter. You can see how delicate this is. Show the Vulcans every assistance and courtesy. That is an order, Commander Tucker."

"Aye, aye sir, "Tucker replied grudgingly. Forrest's image was replaced by the Star Fleet symbol then the view of the planet. Tucker turned to Reed. "This is a fine kettle o' fish. Now we got those damned Vulcans breathin' down our necks, as if we don't have enough trouble."

Hoshi's eyes were bright with curiosity. "T'Pol's mother! I wonder what she looks like? An older version of T'Pol maybe? Why do you think she's coming here?"

"Yeah, ain't that jes' great! Another cold fish Vulcan givin' orders and tickin' her nose in the air as if we smell bad." Tucker shook his head. This command business was getting to be more than he had bargained for. He longed to return to the engine room where at least he felt like he had some control. He looked across at Reed. "Malcolm, I want you to scan the city and the outskirts for targets. Look for weapons emplacements. Hoshi, scan all their communications. See if we can get any idea what's goin' on down there. Travis, calculate the lowest orbit we can keep without endangerin' the ship. We want our weapons to be as effective as possible, but also cut down the time needed for a shuttle to land or get off the planet." Having given those orders, Tucker felt better. At least the crew had something to keep them busy even if they weren't actually allowed to do anything about a rescue. Now all I have to do is cool my heels and wait for those friggin' Vulcans,' he thought as he resumed staring at the view screen.

* * *

From her place at the head table, T'Pol allowed her gaze to travel around the ornate dining hall. The bright lighting from the clusters of globes hanging from the ceiling hurt her eyes. Involuntarily, her inner eyelids closed and she sighed with relief. Loud chatter from the other guests bombarded her sensitive hearing like the roaring of an engine and she wished she had a way to shield her ears too. Not only that, but the strong scents from the large gathering and sight of the food on her plate were taking away her appetite, making her feel nauseous. She wondered if it would be possible to get the emergency food rations from the shuttle. If she was forced to eat this multicoloured stuff, she might  
starve.

As she scanned the room, she noted that every table was filled with males of the species ...and they all looked very much alike tall and lean, their faces long with a high ridge across the forehead and small noses. They had no facial hair but the hair on their heads seemed to continue all the way down their necks. What she could see of their exposed skin looked rough and hairy also. The males  
continued to stare at her as if she were an exotic creature in a zoo or a tasty morsel to a hungry animal. 'For some reason, again I'm the only woman in this assemblage' she thought. Feeling uncomfortable with those ogling eyes on her, she looked down at her plate.

Nothing she saw there looked edible. Long strands of something yellow lay near a tubular orange item, and next to that were some bumpy green things. Her only eating utensil was shaped like a small shovel. Near her plate was a tall narrow glass filled with a purplish fluid.

She turned to First Minister Toluc who was seated on her right. "Meaning no disrespect, First Minister, but I wish to scan these foods before we partake of them. As we are alien to your world, we must check all edible substances to be sure they will not conflict with human or Vulcan metabolism." Toluc nodded and T'Pol pulled the scanner from her belt and took some readings of the items on her plate and the purple liquid.

A glance at Archer on her left told her he was not pleased by her precaution. Undoubtedly, he would see it as rude to their hosts. His eyebrows were drawn down in what she now knew from experience to be his angry expression as he nudged her lightly. She sat straighter and ignored him as she studied the readouts.

Toluc seemed amused. "What do your instruments tell you about our comestibles, Sub-commander? Are we trying to poison you?"

Though his intentional barb annoyed her, she replied in a careful monotone, "These foods are made of hydrocarbons, manufactured not naturally occurring." She studied Toluc for a moment, searching for a reaction. He showed nothing but interest. Continuing, she said, "There are complex amino acids and proteins, carbohydrates and minerals. I see no sign of animal or vegetable matter in these foods. From a Vulcan perspective, they are nutritionally empty."

Toluc smiled. "So you may enjoy your meal, Sub-commander, without worrying about its effects on your Vulcan metabolism or that of your captain." The First Minister leaned toward Medical Officer Norval who was sitting on his right and whispered to him. They both laughed.

T'Pol turned to Archer and said in a low voice, "The liquid in the glass, however, is one hundred percent alcohol and I would advise you not to drink it."

Archer picked up his drink and looked into its purple depths. It sparkled against the brightly shining globes that illuminated the room. She could feel his anger like a hat wave rolling toward her. He replied curtly, "Where I come from, that's all the more reason 'to' drink it." With that, he took a swallow and began to choke. When he had regained control of his voice, he gasped, "Just don't say I told you so. That stuff is pure fire."

Toluc laughed lightly. "Our wine is especially potent but you get used to it." He tossed back his drink in one long swallow then picked up one of the tubular items on his plate and broke it in half with his fingers, sucking the juices out of it with loud slurping sounds. He popped a couple of the green bumpy things into his mouth and crunched them with evident gusto.

T'Pol took several deep breaths, trying to control her disgust with his eating habits. She glanced at Archer as he followed the First Minister's example, eating his food with his hands. Shuddering, she closed her mind to all the noise and odours around her and searched for the place of calm where she centred herself during meditation. Gradually, the clamour faded away. She tried to sort out the impressions she had received so far since landing on the planet, where that sense of wrongness was coming from. She nearly had it when someone touched her arm lightly. With a sharp movement, she flinched away.

"I am sorry, Sub-commander T'Pol. I didn't mean to startle you." Toluc removed his rough, hairy hand from her arm.

"No apology is necessary, First Minister. Vulcans are sensitive to touch and avoid it if at all possible."

Toluc's eyes narrowed. His eyebrows raised sceptically and T'Pol realised he must have been watching her and the captain during their time alone in their quarters. Obviously he could see that she did not avoid all touch. The knowing look in his eyes told her as much. 'I will have to be careful,' she thought.  
'Toluc is more perceptive than he looks.' Indeed, he reminded her of a dog following a scent. Even his strong odour was offensive like the captain's quadruped.

He smiled, revealing a row of small white teeth. "I was going to ask if you were not hungry. You have not touched your food. Perhaps I could order something else for you."

T'Pol squelched a moment of excitement as she thought quickly of a way to get to the shuttle. Once there, she could send a message to the ship. They must be anxious about the long delay between communications. "Actually, First Minister, there are certain Vulcan foods stored in our craft. My nutrition needs are simple but specific. I would like to retrieve those foods to keep in my quarters." She began to rise, but his hand restrained her.

"I must apologize for your discomfort, Sub-commander, but my guests would consider it an insult if you were to leave before the meal is finished. We have a fine display of entertainers arranged for your delight. Once the meal is over, I will have armed guards escort you to your craft. The city is mostly peaceful but as with any civilization, there are harmful and criminal elements abroad in the night. Your safety is of the highest concern to me."

His touch shocked her as did the impressions she received from him chaotic, jumbled images, frightening and dark. She immediately felt the need of a cleansing, a hot shower to wash all trace of his hand from her body.

With an effort at controlling her voice, she replied, "I would be most grateful, First Minister."

T'Pol had to be satisfied with that. Settling back against the hard chair, she pointedly ignored Archer who seemed to be trying to catch her eye. She sensed he felt she was behaving badly. This was supposed to be an ambassadorial mission and she knew she had been discourteous in her speech and manner. Not even tasting the foods on her plate was probably considered an insult but she could  
not bring herself to try any of it.

Toluc touched her arm again to get her attention. His touch revolted her and she could barely hide her disgust. In a pleasantly conversational tone, he said, "Please tell me about your home planet, Sub-commander T'Pol."

Coldly, she glanced at his hand and he removed it with a knowing smile. She drew a deep breath and began, "Vulcan is a class M planet in the same whirlpool galaxy as the planet Earth. The atmosphere is hot and dry and of a higher gravity than Earth or Cephara, the land is mostly desert with many active volcanoes. Our sun is a red giant. Due to the long elliptical orbit, the Vulcan year is..." T'Pol droned on, enumerating the diameter of the planet, its weight, the average rainfall, the distance to its nearest sister planet, the lack of moons and the effect on the tides, pulling out all the information she could remember. After several minutes, she paused. "Does that answer your question,  
First Minister Toluc? I have much more data which I could give you."

Toluc shook his head. "Thank you, Sub-commander. That has covered the subject quite sufficiently."

She could see by his face that he had been incredibly bored. Keeping her own face bland, she added, "The history of the Vulcan race is also fascinating. We are actually descended from..."

Toluc held up his hand, then gestured toward a brightly clothed group now entering the hall. "I am sure Vulcan history would be fascinating, but as you can see, the performers have arrived. Perhaps you can give me the history lesson another time."

The next few hours strained her stoic forbearance to the limit as one act after another played before them in the great hall. Dancers, jugglers, cacophonous musical groups, all manner of entertainers performed much to the pleasure of the Cepharans who drummed loudly on their tables in appreciation. Archer seemed to be enjoying himself immensely and kept up a continuous conversation with Toluc. T'Pol was developing a headache by the time the last act finally bowed its way out the high doors.

* * *

Archer was seething by the time they reached their quarters. As the door closed behind them, T'Pol sagged wearily against it, closing her eyes. He reached her in a couple of steps and placed his hands on each side of her head, signalling with his eyes that he wanted to talk. She shook her head and began to move away. He held on, staring hard at her.

T'Pol straightened, coolly meeting his gaze. She placed her hands on his temples and he experienced again that exhilaration and warmth from their linked minds.

Unable to restrain himself, he let loose the anger that had been building all evening. 'What the hell do you think you were doing in there? We're supposed to be opening friendly relations with the Cepharans not starting a war! And what was that lesson in Vulcan geology? What were you trying to do, bore him to death?'

'He asked, I answered,' she said with icy coolness.

'A few sentences would have more than covered it.' Archer was exasperated with her. As always, she was withholding something. Before he could contain that thought, she had grasped it.

'If you feel I am unsuited for these missions, you should not have insisted that I come with you,' she snapped back. 'I would be only too pleased to return to Enterprise and get away from this planet. It fills me with an unshakeable feeling of horror.'

'Why, because the Cepharans look different from your high and mighty standard of civilized beings? Or because they are a little rough around the edges? Not good enough, T'Pol. From now on, you will treat them with courtesy. Is that clear?' He shook his head, trying to clear it, partially from the effects of that fiery purple liquid and partly from touching her, her mind.

'Now you've got me mind-linking with you in our quarters. Hell, you've got me so paranoid I'm afraid to speak out loud in here in case we're being watched. And why? Because you think there's something wrong on this planet. I've gone along with you so far, T'Pol. But you've got to give me something, something to go on. More than vague hints and suspicions.'

Under his hands, he could almost feel the inner struggle raging inside her. She shivered, set her jaw and said, 'It would be better if I had no further contact with them from now on. I would not want to jeopardize your mission.' Then she pulled his hands away and strode to the other side of the room.

At once, he felt a cold emptiness as her mind withdrew from his. He wanted that feeling back, that warmth and intimacy. But he had let his emotions get the better of him, had provoked her into a rage, and now she was unlikely to want to mind link with him again any time soon. She would certainly not want to be battered by his anger or harangued with harsh words again. 'Damn,' he berated himself. 'If she would only let me know what she suspects or knows. But then, would I believe her? So far, I haven't seen anything other than the fact that our communicators don't work in the city. That doesn't exactly point to a conspiracy.'

As he turned toward her preparing to apologize, the door chimed. Archer opened it and four guards entered carrying a large silver box, about four feet long and several inches deep. They set it on the divan then stood at attention. One of the soldiers, who bore an uncanny resemblance to the others, spoke up as if reading from a prepared script. "This is a gift from First Minister Toluc to Sub-commander T'Pol. The First Minister hopes you will receive this gift as a token of his appreciation for your most enjoyable company at dinner this evening and that you will wear it on the occasion of the state dinner tomorrow night." His mouth snapped shut and he gazed away from T'Pol and down at the floor.

T'Pol's eyes narrowed for a moment, then her eyebrows raised in curiosity as she approached the shiny container. Archer thought he saw a glint of something like satisfaction flash in her eyes as she met his gaze then looked at the box. "You may open it," she said to the soldier.

He unlocked the catches and flipped the lid back. Inside was a gown of some kind of iridescent material. T'Pol reached in to touch the gossamer cloth. Seemingly mesmerized by its softness, she let it slip through her fingers with a soft sibilant whisper like silk. A change came over her; her eyes glowed as she lifted the material from the box and examined it closely. Next to her skin, its electric blue became more vivid. She set the gown down to look at the rest of the clothes beneath. A long stole of gleaming white lay next to a silver vest and near that a pair of soft azure blue slippers.

Under it all was a small box. T'Pol opened it and took out a large crystal pendant and a bejeweled tiara. She seemed totally enthralled by the gift and her face softened as she replaced the jewellery in the small box and closed the lid.

"You may tell First Minister Toluc that I find his gift acceptable and that I thank him." T'Pol ran her fingers appreciatively over the material again and almost smiled, to Archer's astonishment.

Comprehending that as a dismissal, the four soldiers marched out and closed the door.

Aloud, Archer smiled and said, "I guess you didn't make that bad an impression after all." He realized it was a poor apology but he was now baffled by her reaction to the gift. She was the last woman he would have expected to be impressed by a fancy dress and some jewels.

T'Pol came toward him and somewhat hesitantly touched his temples again. He took her face in his hands, more gently this time. He was grateful that Vulcans did not seem to hold grudges, but were able to put past disagreements aside. Still, he felt the need to apologize. 'T'Pol, I lost my temper and said some things...'

In his mind he heard her say, 'No apology is necessary. You were quite correct in all you said. It is I who should apologize.'

He smiled, glad they were back on friendly terms again. 'I had no idea you liked clothes or jewels, T'Pol. You've never seemed interested in looking in the shops on other worlds so I just assumed you didn't care about such things.'

'Captain, remember they are watching us. I had to act like I appreciated the gift. I do not know why he sent this to me. Of course, I will not wear it.'

Archer suddenly wanted to see her in that wonderful iridescent blue gown. Its sheerness and softness would be magnificent on her. He was about to say it when she abruptly broke the mind link and moved back to the shiny container. With studied care, she closed the lid. Disappointed, he thought, 'I guess that's my answer.'

If they were actually being monitored, Archer decided to try something. He caught her eye, hoping she would play along with his bit of playacting. Aloud he said, "Tomorrow I have an audience with the Cepharan high council. Toluc is their first minister. We have some trade issues to discuss as well as landing rights and so on. Since you have no interest in these things, what will you do with your time?" She blinked and raised her eyebrow slightly then gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

"I understand from First Medical Officer Norval that their science is highly developed. He offered to show me around their science centre. The doctor feels we may engage in some medical and scientific exchanges that would be as beneficial as any trade in minerals."

That would leave T'Pol free to do some investigating while he was occupied with diplomatic matters. If she was wrong about the Cepharans, no harm would be done and the mission would end in success. If she was right ...Archer could not decide what would happen then. Somehow he would have to alert his ship and get them away on the shuttle. He couldn't figure what the Cepharans would want other  
than what they said trade with other worlds.

T'Pol strolled across the room to a door, then opened it. Inside, Archer could see a narrow cot with her kit bag lying upon it. "And now, Captain Archer, if you have no further need of me, I will retire. Good night." With that, she entered the room and closed the door.

He stood for a moment staring at the door, wondering if her room was also wired and if whoever was watching them was able to see her in that tiny cubicle as well. The thought infuriated him as an invasion of her privacy and he wished he knew for sure if her suspicions were correct. So far, the Cepharans had seemed like perfect hosts, eager to please their off-world guests. Earlier, they had  
even allowed him to beam a message to his ship and he had spoken with Trip. His conversation was brief and interrupted by static but at least Archer knew that all was well on Enterprise and Trip was aware of the communications problems in the city.

So much for her Vulcan intuitions. Yet, he couldn't shake off the feeling that she could be right. He turned to a door on the opposite wall to hers and went inside. His room was a duplicate of hers, just large enough for a cot and a side table. The bath cubicle was ensuite to his room. He entered it and began to wash his face then brush his teeth, his mind preoccupied with T'Pol. She had really gotten under his skin and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing that wouldn't cause enormous complications for them both. He set his toothbrush down and stared at his reflection. A troubled-looking man stared back; a man in the throes of some very unruly emotions. Part of him wanted to cross the floor and open the door to her room. The saner part told him if he did, she would kick his  
ass. With a heavy sigh, he rinsed his brush, then turned off the light and returned to his bedroom, pausing to listen for any sound from hers.

* * *

Toluc leaned against the view screen, the bony ridge on his brow touching the image of a woman asleep on a cot in a dark room. "I must have her, Norval," he growled. "She is perfect in every way. I must have her!"

The doctor stood by a console on which there was a bank of dials and switches. He watched the screen as the young Vulcan woman turned in her sleep and murmured something unintelligible. Her thin blanket had fallen off and she was wearing only a short nightdress. The infrared camera highlighted her exposed arms and legs with a soft red glow. Norval grimaced at the rapt expression on Toluc's face. The first minister was getting too caught up in his own emotions. Glancing at the dials, Norval nodded. All the readings suggested she was perfect as Toluc said. Though it was late, he was too excited to think of sleeping.

"You must have patience, Toluc. Remember how taken she was with your gift. And we have seen that the sub-commander and the captain do not have an intimate relationship though they show each other affection with touches. Patience, my friend," the doctor counselled again. He frowned, speaking as much to himself as to Toluc. "It is too bad she did not touch anything at the meal. I could not get  
any DNA samples. However, there is time for that."

As for himself, he was eager for the morning when she would accompany him to the science centre. There was so much to do before then. If only Toluc would leave and let him get on with his work. But the First Minister seemed glued to the view screen, unable to tear his eyes away. Norval decided to ignore his superior and was soon lost in his calculations and data.

* * *

Archer heard the sound of a shower shutting off as he emerged from his room. He wasn't surprised that she was already up; it fitted with her personality somehow. T'Pol would never just laze in bed for an extra few minutes as he had. She would consider it a waste of time. He scratched his chin, thinking he should shave as he yawned widely.

Wandering into what seemed to be a kitchenette, he opened a refrigerated cabinet and looked inside. There were some of the same types of food inside that he had been forced to swallow last night. His stomach rebelled at the thought. He wasn't ready for more of that crap yet and wondered if T'Pol had brought any human rations besides her own from the shuttle. A rumble from his stomach reminded him that he should eat something before the meeting today. What he had eaten last night was more like dog food. He chuckled thinking even Porthos would turn his sensitive nose up at it ...as T'Pol had. He didn't blame her for not wanting to try it. She wouldn't eat much human food either. Vulcans must have sensitive digestion, he decided, closing the cabinet.

Archer strolled back into the main area, opening his mouth to call her and ask about the food situation. His mouth snapped shut when T'Pol opened her door and stepped out.

She was wearing the iridescent blue dress. He had been right; she did look magnificent, even regal. The material swished sensuously as she moved with unself-conscious grace toward him. If she had any vanity, Archer decided she must be quite pleased with herself. She would cause quite a sensation on the ship in that dress; most of the men were already gaga over her. The long gown fitted her shapely figure and accentuated it, hinting at those luscious curves that were hidden in the soft clinging folds. Somehow, it seemed even sexier than the tight uniform she usually wore. The electric blue was perfect with her dark skin and hair.

He wanted to say something but didn't trust his voice. He shook his head, trying to sort out his feelings. It was too early in the morning for such a shock; he couldn't seem to frame any coherent thoughts. All he could think was how lovely she was and how he was afraid to tell her. Instead, he laughed self-consciously. "Are you planning to wear that to the science centre?"

Her look turned icy and she replied, "No, Captain, I was not. I was merely trying the gown on to see if it fit. I will wear it tonight at the dinner with First Minister Toluc and the Cepharan Council. I believe this will be more serviceable than my uniform for a state occasion." She returned to her room and  
closed the door firmly.

Archer didn't know what to do. She was acting like a woman and he couldn't seem to handle it. Just when he thought he had their relationship figured out, she threw him a curve. It was obvious she was expecting more than a joke. Putting on that dress must have required some courage; she wanted some assurance from him and he had backed away. 'Damn,' he thought, 'I hope I live long enough to figure her out. That is, if she doesn't kill me first.'

Returning to his room, he showered and shaved, then donned his uniform. He heard the door chime, some muffled voices, then nothing. She must have gone to her appointment with the doctor at the science centre. He stepped out and glanced around to be sure. The place had an empty feeling suddenly.

Archer picked up his brief case and carried it into the main room. Dropping onto the divan, he flipped the case open and began to study the papers inside. The documents were protocols drafted by Star Fleet with the help of the Vulcans for contacts with new civilizations the do's and don't's of trade and diplomatic emissaries. Despite T'Pol's coolness toward Toluc, the First Minister seemed to be pleased with the progress made so far. Today would be the test. The Cepharan council would be meeting to discuss the setting up of the space station and other trade matters. Archer's heart skipped a little as he realised the importance of today's talks and his responsibility for their success.

The door chimed again and he closed the case. That would be his escort to the Cepharan Council.

* * *

Tucker wasn't sure how to react to her, what was the correct manner of address. Commissioner N'Vara marched from the turbo-lift onto the bridge as if she owned it. His first impression was that she was taller that T'Pol but that might have been because of her leanness. He looked for some resemblance to her daughter, but only saw something around the eyebrows, the way they arched as she looked at him. That was 'very' familiar, he thought wryly. Her face was thin to the point of gauntness, making her high cheekbones more pronounced, and she seemed to pierce him with her cold black eyes. Her flowing robes swished with an impatient sound as she bore down on him like a ship under full sail.

"Commander Tucker, I presume," she said crisply. She folded her hands in front and waited.

Tucker felt like a bug under a microscope and squirmed a little inside. "Yes, ma'am," he said, not sure whether to salute or take her hand. He decided to do neither rather than risk insulting her.

"I am Commissioner N'Vara of the Vulcan High Command. I am taking control of this vessel for the duration of this crisis. You will convey all available data to me on the current situation." Without waiting for his reply, she handed him a sealed envelope. "Here are your orders from Star Fleet. I am to have your complete co-operation ...and obedience to my orders. Do not worry about your vessel, Commander. Before I joined the High Command, I was the captain of a Vulcan ship for many years."

Tucker felt his face flushing as anger flashed through him. 'Those damned high and mighty Vulcans!' he steamed mentally. 'No howdy-do or nothin', jes' get outta my way, 'cos I'm takin' over.' He clenched his jaw against the words that threatened to spill out and took a deep breath. Aloud, he said, "Yes, ma'am," feeling the eyes of the crew on him. Did he seem weak? Would the captain have just let her take over the ship? The thought that his fellow crew members might think he was easily bullied by this female Vulcan fuelled his anger, but there was nothing he could do about it right now.

He turned to Hoshi. "Give the commissioner all the communications we've had up until last night." Returning his attention to N'Vara, he said, "We had a brief contact with Captain Archer about 1800 hours last night but there was so much static, I could hardly make out what he was sayin'. He sounded all right and said things were goin' well."

"What about Sub-commander T'Pol? Did you speak with her?" N'Vara's face was rigid and conveyed nothing.

Tucker wondered about her cold tone. She didn't seem to show any maternal concern but maybe under that icy exterior she was really worried about her daughter. There didn't seem to be any need. The captain had assured him that it was a communications problem and nothing to worry about.

"No, ma'am. Jes' the captain. He said the sub-commander was gettin' some rations outta the shuttle while he used the shuttle's communicator to hail us. It seems to me there's bin a lotta fuss over nothin'."

Her eyes drilled into him and he almost stepped back from their force. In an glacial tone, she replied, "That is because you don't know what is on that planet. What danger my daughter is in. And your captain of course." She seemed to be holding onto her control by a thread which surprised Tucker and made him respect her more. That was more like a mother talking.

Pulling herself more erect, she continued in a monotone, bereft of the earlier emotion, "You have your weapons at the ready, I presume, Commander Tucker?" At his affirmative nod, she said, "The Vulcan ship is also heavily armed. We will now plan the rescue operation. And Commander Tucker, they will be no women ...I repeat 'no' women, in any of the landing parties. Is that clear?"

'Clear as mud,' Tucker thought, then replied aloud, "Yes, ma'am. We can go to the ready room and get started. Maybe you could also explain what it is we're rescuin' them from."

"I will give you as much detail as I can without breaking my oath of silence on this matter," N'Vara said as she strode back toward the turbo-lift.

* * *

The brief trip to the science centre had been fascinating, T'Pol had to admit. The covered vehicle in which she rode with Doctor Norval floated on a cushion of air and was almost soundless. As they travelled through the walled city, she noted how modern it looked. They passed streets of tall buildings of curious architectural styles; streets lined with shops and offices, crowded with pedestrians. But no women, she noted again. 'I have not seen another female on this planet so far. Maybe there are none.' The thought was unsettling and she shivered without knowing exactly why.

Once inside the huge science centre, T'Pol felt more comfortable. The atrium of the building was a wide open space that reached to the top of the building. It was bright with orange sunlight and many glowing lights. Above she could see floors of laboratories with many Cepharans hurrying about, carrying trays or notebooks, all wearing white lab coats. An open staircase led to each floor. Bubble-like lifts zoomed up and down carrying the workers to the many floors. This was familiar territory and she breathed more easily.

So far, Dr. Norval had hardly spoken for which T'Pol was grateful. She viewed him as a taciturn creature though highly intelligent. Now, in his element, he became more expansive. "Sub-commander, we will get you a lab coat and identification badge then I will show you around the centre. I believe you will be suitably impressed." Briskly, he took hold of her arm. She flinched and  
pulled it back. The doctor guided her to a desk where the flustered guard tried to figure out where to pin the identification badge. The guard seemed to be transfixed by her breasts as his hands hovered near her. T'Pol solved the problem by taking the badge from him and attaching it to her belt. 'It's as if  
he's never seen a female before,' she thought, irritated by the way he was gaping at her.

Donning the lab coat, she felt at least a little shielded from the staring eyes that followed her as the doctor led her to one of the bubble lifts.

"We'll start with the food science laboratories," Norval said as he guided her with slight pressure on her back into the small clear compartment. His touch bothered her and she moved away from it. He pressed a button and the lift sped upwards. "The first two floors are for administration and education," he explained as they passed by. "We have a science university connected with the laboratories."

T'Pol glanced along the corridors filled with Cepharans busily going about their work. It seemed like a  
normal lab setting. In a monotone, she said, "Commendably efficient, Dr. Norval."

The lift suddenly stopped and the door opened with a swish that reminded T'Pol of the Enterprise. Norval stepped out and waited for her. "Follow me, Sub-commander. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised by the high degree of our nutrition development. We synthesize all food substances here." He opened a shiny door and ushered her in with a gentle push.

"Dr. Norval," she said impatiently. "May I remind you that Vulcans do not like to be touched. Please refrain. I need no extra propulsion to help me move."

He looked away quickly but not before T'Pol caught the scowl that crossed his face. Was it Vulcans or females that he did not like? She filed that away to examine later as she preceded him into the laboratory.

At once the odours caused her throat to close. After a few seconds, she felt light-headed from trying not to breathe in the noxious fumes. Turning quickly, she exited the room, and in the corridor, took several gulps of air while holding onto the wall.

When the doctor joined her, he seemed solicitous and reached out to touch her, then pulled his hairy hands back. "Are you all right, Sub-commander? You look a little pale. Can I get you anything?"

"I apologize, Dr. Norval. Whatever you are making in that lab has caused a strong reaction. My sense of smell is extremely acute. Perhaps we can bypass this part and go on."

His shoulders grew more rigid and he said tersely, "Of course. I did not realise you were so sensitive. In that laboratory, we are constantly experimenting with new food types. People enjoy change in their diets. However, from now on, I will be more careful of your highly developed senses." He nearly touched her again, then pointed to the lift. "We will go up to the medical floor. It is a hospital with a series of laboratories for research into microbiology and other sciences."

A few minutes later, they were walking down a hallway passing doors which T'Pol surmised were patient rooms. The familiar odours were reassuring; hospitals everywhere seemed to smell the same. At the end of the corridor, the doctor opened a door with a card which he inserted in a device attached to a panel on the wall.

The large room they entered was brightly lit with those hanging globes and T'Pol wondered absently what substance they used to obtain such brilliance. Her inner eyelids closed to protect her from the harsh light. As they stood at the front of the room, she scanned the area quickly. There were four long rows of equipment that looked like several types of analysers. On many desks, she could see electron microscopes that looked oddly familiar. Her musings were interrupted by Norval's annoyingly whiny voice. Its pitch grated on her nerves.

"We have conquered nearly all diseases on the planet, and are on the verge of conquering them all, Sub-commander. Our scientists are highly trained here at the science centre, then are hired either by the government or by our manufacturers who use our formulas under licence to produce pharmaceuticals. That is how we finance our research and development."

"You are to be congratulated, Dr. Norval. It is a very efficient methodology. In fact, on Vulcan, we use a very similar system." T'Pol thought she saw an evasive look pass through his eyes.

He led her along one of the rows, passing several workers who were either bent over microscopes or punching numbers onto keypads. Curious, she stopped by one workstation and asked the doctor, "May I look through one of your microscopes? I am a scientist and this work is very interesting to me."

His chest seemed to expand as he smiled and gestured toward the work station. She had obviously petted his ego. T'Pol leaned past the worker and stared into the eyepieces. The material on the plate seemed to be a tissue sample, but it was unlike anything she had seen before. She studied it closely then straightened. As she did, she noticed a name plate on the base of the instrument. Keeping her face blank, she moved away.

"Thank you," she said to the worker. He grinned back at her, then returned to his microscope.

A quiver of dread raced through her as she examined the discovery in her mind. It couldn't be and yet there was the evidence. As they continued down the aisles of equipment, with the doctor explaining their uses, T'Pol was preoccupied with her own inner musings. So far, she had seen nothing remarkable about this lab except that one thing which suddenly changed the entire mission. She kept looking for more evidence and finally saw it. Another name plate, different from the first but unmistakeably familiar. It was Vulcan! Some of the equipment was of Vulcan manufacture. She had used some of this apparatus at the Science Academy. The thought staggered her. 'Why weren't we informed,' she thought in shock. 'Soval should have told us that this was not a first contact. Why did he withhold this information from Star Fleet?'

T'Pol realised the doctor had asked her a question and she had to request that he repeat it. She hoped he had not noticed that she had seen the Vulcan name plates on the instruments.

"I said, Sub-commander, you must be getting tired. Do you wish to rest and refresh yourself with food or drink? It is getting near the mid-day meal time. The workers are taking their breaks now as you can see."

Still somewhat distracted, T'Pol replied, "If you are fatigued, we may stop at any time. Otherwise, I would like to see the rest of the science centre. Such as, where do you keep the cloning facility?"

The doctor stumbled then recovered quickly. "What do you mean ...cloning?"

T'Pol had recovered her composure, and was pleased to see that she had shaken the doctor out of his. Carefully controlling her voice, she gestured toward the retreating workers. "I have seen no females on your planet so far, yet there are young inhabitants here. The obvious answer is that they are being cloned. Unless your species is androgynous. Is it?"

Norval's face seemed to close as his eyes narrowed. "No," he spat. "We are not androgynous. We have evolved past the need for females. That type of reproduction is inefficient and produces unpredictable results including many biological flaws and diseases. Cephara has perfected the species and eliminated almost all of the flaws."

"And you manufacture your nutrients rather than use the abundance of vegetation just outside the city. Why is that?" T'Pol felt she was treading on dangerous ground but she was tired of the creeping sensation of wrongness that had infiltrated her being since arriving on this planet. She wanted some answers.

"As with our evolution away from female reproduction, so we have eliminated the need to depend on the vagaries of climate to produce sustenance for our population. Everything is strictly controlled to keep it in balance. Surely, Sub-Commander, as a rational entity you can see the logic of our system."

The shifty look on his face seemed to run counter to what he was saying. T'Pol sensed there was more to this system than what he expressed. "Of course, Dr. Norval. It is a model to be emulated, perhaps throughout the galaxy. Is that why you wanted a space station built here? To show the galaxy how progressive your species is?"

Again, T'Pol noted how he seemed to puff up under her somewhat heavy-handed flattery.

He smiled thinly. "We do not expect other species to adopt our system but if they want to learn from us, we are prepared to teach. For a price, of course."

"Of course. It would be illogical to give away hard-won knowledge. I would be interested to hear how your species was able to evolve so quickly. What happened to all the females?" T'Pol waited tensely as she watched his reaction to her question. As she expected, he glanced away as if hedging, considering what to say.

Finally, he gazed into her eyes with a strange almost mad look. She sensed he was excited suddenly; his hands clenched and unclenched several times and she could hear his breathing quicken. It unnerved her as she waited for him reply.

"Tonight," he said breathlessly. "Tonight, First Minister Toluc will answer all of your questions."

* * *

Tucker shook his head. "This won't work, Commissioner. We can't land that close to the city. As Lieutenant Reed pointed out, there's no cover for nearly a kilometre around the city walls. We'd be picked off before we even got close. We have to find a way to get right inside the city. A quick sneak attack. Maybe when it gets dark we could land a coupla shuttles."

In an exasperated tone, N'Vara said, "Commander Tucker, we could never bring a large enough force with only a few shuttles. And we can't penetrate that force field over the city to find landing places. It would be suicidal to send only a few. We need a large force. With the firepower of both vessels, we can break through the walls to allow our forces to penetrate quickly."

He rubbed his hand over his face; he was tired of wrangling with her. She was even more stubborn than her daughter, T'Pol. Tucker's brain was foggy from lack of sleep and his temper was fraying. What would Captain Archer do, he wondered. His own mind couldn't conceive of a plan that didn't involve risking the lives of his crew, but more importantly, the lives of the captain and sub-commander.

Patiently, he said, "We don't know where they are, so how are we goin' to rescue them. Once we go in with all guns blazin', the captain and sub-commander might be killed. We have to come up with somethin' that is less risky. Like a commando raid. I'm willin' to take a few men down there and get inside, see if I can find them."

"That is commendably brave of you, Commander, but highly illogical. Who would be left in charge of your ship? As third officer, you must remain with your vessel ...in case the captain and sub-commander are unable to return." She paused as if trying to control her voice, then added, "I will take a small force to the surface."

"Now 'you're' bein' illogical, with all due respect, ma'am. You jes' told me that no women should go down to the planet. You still haven't explained why, but now you're sayin' you'll risk whatever it is. I can't agree to that. We'll make up two teams of Vulcan and human men. That seems to be the best solution."

N'Vara glanced around at the others in the ready room. "If you will ask the Ensigns Sato and Mayweather and Lieutenant Reed to leave, I will explain as much as I can of the danger of Cephara."

Something about the change in her expression caused a tightness to clamp around Trip's chest. She wasn't just kidding when she said there was danger. He could see her tensing as the others filed out of the room. Forcing his breathing to remain normal, he waited.

N'Vara studied him for a few minutes as if summoning her strength. "I must go back many years, Commander, so please be patient. This is not an easy story for me to tell. And of course, it must go no further than this room."

* * *

By the time Dr. Norval had finished dragging her through his tour of the science centre, T'Pol was tired and bored. She had longed to get away from him; his odour and smarmy presence offended her sensibilities. His droning, whiny voice attacked her nerves. And there was something shifty about the way he avoided her eyes when she asked questions. She was convinced he lied without compunction and evaded direct questioning. When he finally took her back to the government building where she shared quarters with Archer, T'Pol was in great need of a period of meditation. She needed time to sort out her thoughts and decide what the discovery of the Vulcan equipment meant.

It was obvious that the Cepharans had been contacted before. Why were they pretending that this was a first contact? She now began to wonder if the stares that followed her everywhere were not because she was female but because she was Vulcan.

As before as soon as she entered the building, two guards escorted her to the lift and stayed with her until she reached her quarters. After opening the door for her, they remained outside the small apartment. T'Pol sighed with relief at finally being alone for a while. The doctor's constant company all day had worn her down.

She quickly entered her small sleeping cubicle and retrieved the meditation kit. Setting everything out on the floor in the main room, she sat down and stared at the candle while inhaling its relaxing scent. Ignoring that she was probably being watched, she focussed on finding that place of inner peace. Soon, with each deep controlled breath, she allowed the tensions to fall away. Her body felt weightless as she closed her eyes. A wonderful clarity opened in her mind. The transcendence brought a rush of profound pleasure as she inhaled, held each breath then slowly let it out. After several minutes, thoughts began to drift up into her consciousness. She allowed them to pass through.

Archer's face arose in her mind and she caught her breath. A sense of warmth filled her. She tried to push his image from her mind and concentrate on nothingness. But once lodged there, he didn't seem to want to go. Reluctantly, T'Pol allowed this thought to remain and examine it. He was not the first human male that she had found interesting or even somewhat attractive. But he was the first who invaded her dreams and thoughts.

She analysed the sensation that his image evoked. Warmth and a sense of excitement, expectation. Expectation? But of what? They could not share anything more than what was proper. Could they? Should they? This new thought disturbed her equanimity. She could not get back into that serene space where time was suspended and all thought ceased. With a deep breath that was more of a sigh, she came out of her trance and looked around.

How much time had passed? Where was Archer? An unsettling thought occurred to her. Should she share what she had seen at the science centre with him? She still was not sure what it meant. Would she be betraying her home world to admit that Vulcans had been here before? She made up her mind as she stood and while repacking her meditation kit, thought about the other mystery in that science  
centre.

During the tour, Dr. Norval had not taken her to the top floor of the building. He had said it was a classified area and off limits to anyone but authorized personnel. T'Pol had decided that perhaps the mystery behind that eerie feeling she had sensed might lie behind those doors. Now it was just a matter of getting into the building and up to that floor without being seen. She was turning the matter over in her mind as the door opened and Archer walked in.

* * *

Tucker stared at N'Vara for a long moment. The silence was becoming uncomfortable but he couldn't find anything to say. His tired mind was numbed by what she had told him. Rubbing his hands over his wearied eyes, he drew in a deep breath to steady himself.

"Now I understand why you don't want any women to go down to the surface, Commissioner. But I think you should also stay off that planet. It's too dangerous for you." Her chin lifted and she arched her eyebrow in a gesture that was characteristic of T'Pol. The sub-commander always had a way of making him feel he had said something stupid, which he probably had according to her standards. Tucker's stomach curdled with fear for T'Pol. And anger that they had been sent here without any warning about this planet.

He stood up and wandered to the porthole to stare down at the blue ball below. Who would have imagined that such a beautiful place could harbour such evil. Determination steeled him as he turned to find N'Vara watching him intently.

"We've got to get her out of there, Commissioner! I'll get the rescue teams assembled and the weapons issued. In less than an hour, we'll be ready to go." Tucker began to move toward the door when her voice stopped him.

"The rescue must be done during their night. As you say, we can be seen if we land the shuttles in broad daylight. We must wait until dark before we can attempt the rescue."

The flatness of her tone belied the intense expression on her face. Tucker could sense her anxiety. 'She must be goin' through hell,' he thought. 'I know I sure am, and T'Pol's not my daughter. Hell, she's hardly even a friend.' No, he decided, that wasn't exactly true. Though the sub-commander annoyed the hell out of him most of the time, he had a grudging respect for her and even had to admit he liked her. Whether she considered herself a member of the crew or not, he had accepted her. Not only that, but he suspected the captain was getting sweet on her. For all the good it would do him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Tucker said, "With all due respect, ma'am, I'm goin' with the rescue party. I know if the captain was here instead o' me, he'd be leadin' the rescue. I can't jes' sit here and let others take all the risks. I hafta know what's goin' on and be part of it. I hope you understand."

Her look softened a little and he realised she did understand. That was why she insisted on going with the Vulcan team. He crossed the room and took her hand, patting it sympathetically.

"Don't worry, Commissioner. We'll get her back, safe and sound."

She allowed him to hold her hand for a moment before withdrawing it. "I sincerely hope so, Commander Tucker. I sincerely hope so."

* * *

Archer came out of his bedroom, buttoning the high collar of his dress uniform. T'Pol was already in the main room, standing in the kitchenette putting something into a small container. When she turned toward him, she looked unsure, nervous. The lustrous blue gown swished as she moved. He caught his breath as he studied her, his heart nearly flipping over. He decided to be honest this time instead of putting her off with a joke.

She moistened her lips and said, "How did the negotiations go today, Captain, if you don't mind my asking?"

He laughed, in ebullient good spirits. "Excellent! It went very well. We got all the agreements signed and now I just have to send them to Star Fleet." Without thinking, he strode to her and lifted her hand, kissing it on the back. Feigning an English accent, he said, "Miss T'Pol, may I have the honour of this next dance?"

T'Pol tried to pull her hand away as she arched her eyebrows at him, giving a look that suggested she thought he had lost his senses. Without waiting for her answer, he swept his arms around her and began to waltz her around the room. She stumbled over his feet and pushed against him, but he hung on.

"What is the point of this movement, Captain? It seems like a waste of energy."

He looked down into those snapping black eyes. Archer chuckled at the indignant tone of her voice. He knew Vulcans did not like to be touched so being held this closely must be very uncomfortable for her. So be it. He was bubbling over with delight at a job well done and he was going to share the feeling. "It's called dancing. Don't they have dances on Vulcan?"

"Vulcans have ritual dances. And it is done to drums and music," she replied crisply, still struggling but not as effectually Archer knew she could.

"You want music? OK, here's some music." He began to hum the Blue Danube while waltzing with shorter steps and more grace. Eventually, she seemed to be getting into the rhythm.

She glanced up at him, a pleased look in her eyes. "There is a pattern to this dancing. One-two-three, one-two-three."

"That's it, T'Pol. It's called waltz time. Humans dance for pleasure, to let themselves go and have fun. Dancing is as much a part of our culture as music and language." He stopped, a little breathless from the exertion and if he admitted it, from holding that warm firm body so closely. Lifting his hands, he  
placed them on each side of her head, locking her eyes with his. She raised her hands and touched his temples. If he thought holding her was pleasurable, feeling her in his mind was a such a rush, he sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled quickly.

'Captain,' she whispered in his mind, 'I need to tell you something.'

He overrode her thoughts with his own more urgent one. 'T'Pol, I need to kiss you.' He felt her shock as she jerked back slightly but kept the mind link.

'Vulcans do not indulge in kissing, as you know.' Her back was rigid as she held him at arm's length.

'Haven't you ever been kissed, T'Pol?' he asked as he gazed into those dark eyes. Those eyes, he thought, so innocent and yet so old and wise.

'I did not say that, only that Vulcans do not kiss.' She was back to being her prickly self. He noted a wry amusement in her tone. She was teasing him and it was working. That was some sense of humour she was developing.

Archer was suddenly annoyed. Jealous? Of course not. He wondered to himself what jerk had foisted himself upon her, this innocent alien, unaccustomed to the wiles of the human male.

'Who was it?' he growled into her mind.

'Who was what, Captain?' she asked lightly.

'The guy who kissed you. Who was it?' Archer was uncomfortably aware that he sounded like an idiot and she probably thought he was being boorish besides.

Picking up his thought, she asked, 'I do not understand the meaning of boorish, Captain. Perhaps you could explain. As you know, part of my mission is to learn as much as possible about your species while aboard Enterprise.'

'Boorish,' he said patiently, 'is how I'm acting right now, as if I had a right to know anything about your private life.'

'I see. Thank you for clarifying that. Now back to your original request. Again for the sake of my knowledge. Why did you need to kiss me?'

He wondered if he could embarrass himself anymore than he already had. 'Never mind. It was a bad idea. I just thought that if we're being watched...'

'We _are_ being watched,' she affirmed.

'OK. Since we're being watched, they may be suspicious by now that all this touching is not affection but a means of communication. If I kiss you, it may allay their suspicions.'

She seemed to be thinking that over, but he could not hear her thoughts. It was an unfair advantage that she had over him. All his thoughts were transparent to her, but she could shield hers. Finally, she said, 'You may be right. In that case, you may proceed. What should I do?'

He chuckled as he took a firmer grip on her face. 'I know this won't be pleasant for you. Just close your eyes and think of England.' Her confusion nearly made him laugh as his lips hovered near hers. An image of the Tower Bridge and Big Ben popped into her mind.

'What is the purpose of thinking of England, Captain?' Those dark eyes searched his, uncertainty in their depths. She seemed to think he was mocking her.

'It's just an expression, T'Pol. From Victorian England, where the Queen was supposed to be ...' He hesitated, not sure if she would be insulted by the comparison. 'Never mind. It doesn't mean anything really.'

Touching her lips gently, he tried to make his mind go blank. 'Maybe I should be thinking of England,' he chided himself as little fibrils of desire began to wind their way through his body. Though she kept her lips tightly closed, their soft touch was all that was needed to ignite a small fire in his belly. He was about to pull back when he felt a sense of turbulence from her mind, a stirring like a storm brewing. Intrigued, he increased the pressure against her rigid lips. She shivered and he could feel her tense, her breathing quickening. Suddenly, she moaned and a wild force hit him like a tidal wave, nearly making him stagger. Something in Vulcan flowed into his mind as an intense heat filled him; he felt like he was on fire, and it was wonderful.

He tried to hold her closer, but she broke the mind link and stepped away, obviously shaken. And embarrassed. She wouldn't look at him but strode immediately to her room and closed the door.

'Shit!' he berated himself. 'Now what have I done? She probably thinks I'm no better than Tolaris, trying to force her into something she isn't ready for. Just when we were starting to get along, I have to do something really stupid. I guess it's back to square one.' His earlier high spirits dissolved as he gazed at the closed door and all that it symbolized.

* * *

Reed handed out the phase pistols with a hang-dog expression on his face. "Sir, I again request permission to join the away team. You'll need a marksman and I'm the best shot on the ship."

Tucker shook his head. "I need you on the bridge, Malcolm. We have to leave at least one commissioned officer to man the ship." He shot a quick look at N'Vara to be sure she was not paying attention to him. She was speaking in her own language with two very large Vulcan males who were standing near the one of the shuttles. He added in a lowered voice, "The commissioner wanted to put a Vulcan officer in charge of Enterprise and you know the captain wouldn't like that. So take care of the ship while we're gone."

"Yes, sir." Reed looked uncertainly at the vessel they planned to take to the surface. "Are you sure that thing will still fly? It's been just sitting there for quite awhile."

Tucker patted the hull of the Suliban craft. "Sound as a dollar, Malcolm. Mayweather checked it out only a couple of weeks ago." He gestured to the ensign who was doing a pre-flight inspection. "After we rescued you and the cap'n from that near hangin', me and Mayweather became experts on this thing. 'Specially the cloakin' device."

Despite his cool demeanour, the commander's insides were churning. He didn't know how they'd get into the city, or once they were there, what they would do. All Tucker knew was that he'd give it a damned good try. He moistened his mouth with what little saliva he had and said, "Well, let's get this show on the road. Sooner we're in, sooner we're out."

Reed moved to the exit door and stood outside the launch bay, watching through the window. Tucker gave him a cheery wave, then climbed into the pilot's seat. Mayweather was already sitting in the second seat and the others crowded in behind.

After further wrangling with the commissioner, they had finally decided to take only the five in the small Suliban vessel. It was tight but there was a shuttle on the ground outside the city they could use. Hoshi had said it was unguarded and still emitting its homing signal.

Mayweather pressed a button and the hatch closed. With five large individuals inside, space was very limited. Tucker thought it was like being in that escape pod again with her majesty, the princess with whom he had been stranded on that planet. The memory made him smile and he relaxed a little. "Power up," he said, flipping a series of switches. A hum vibrated through the craft and his stomach  
tightened. He remembered one of Malcolm's favourite sayings, 'in for a penny, in for a pound'. It seemed appropriate for this mission.

"Take 'er out, Mr. Mayweather," he said. The craft lifted and moved out the launch bay door. Tucker experienced the sudden stomach-rocking sensation of weightlessness as the vessel moved away from Enterprise. "We'll use the same co-ordinates that the Cepharans gave us to guide the captain and the sub-commander to the city. Once we get there, we'll have a better idea of what's happenin'." At least, he hoped that's how it would work. They would have to improvise according to what they found. He knew the commissioner didn't like his rather loosely-planned strategy, but she couldn't come up with anything better.

* * *

Riding down in the lift, T'Pol stood as far from him as she could without touching the two guards who were escorting them to the state dinner. Archer wanted to talk, to explain, apologize, hell, he'd grovel if he had to. Anything to get her to speak to him. She was giving him the silent treatment, had been  
since she closed her door.

When the apartment door chimed and the guards had announced it was time to go, she had come out of her room and without a word, passed by and followed the guards to the lift.

Archer wondered if it was something wired into the female gene, this ability to put a guy in the deep freeze and keep him there until she was good and ready to let him out. While he was ruminating on this and sneaking quick looks at T'Pol, the lift stopped and the guards led them down the corridor to a pair of double doors. The sound of loud chatter reached them as they opened the doors and went  
inside.

It was a very large gathering. 'And it must be an important occasion,' Archer noted. The males seated at the tables were dressed in a variety of colourful finery, unlike the dull grey outfits they usually wore. Many were decked out in loose fitting jackets of some shiny material, somewhat like the dress T'Pol was wearing. With their canine-like appearance, Archer thought they looked sort of like those old Earth paintings of dogs dressed in human clothes and gambling or doing some other human activity. The similarity almost made him laugh.

First Minister Toluc stood by the head table speaking with Dr. Norval. Upon seeing Archer and T'Pol, he broke off his conversation and moved toward them with a wide toothy smile. "Ah, the guests of honour have arrived. Greetings, friends," he said effusively, stretching his hand toward T'Pol. She ignored it and kept her hands behind her back.

"Good evening, First Minister," she said coolly.

If he felt slighted, Toluc didn't show it. He merely indicated the places at the head table where they should sit and then took his own place.

Archer pulled the chair out for T'Pol and she gave him a chilly nod then sat down. For some reason, they had been placed side by side with Toluc to his right and Dr. Norval to T'Pol's left. To make better conversation, he decided, though he doubted Norval was going to get much conversation from T'Pol. Or maybe she was reserving the silent treatment just for him. 'Not that I don't deserve it,' he added to himself. He just wondered how long she was going to make him suffer for that mistake. He'd crossed an invisible line and was now paying for it. In spades. Damn.

The meal progressed the same as the night before with a slight difference. It had a more festive air since the agreements were now signed and the diplomatic part seemed to have been a success. Archer should have felt elated. So far, other than T'Pol's vague suspicions about something wrong on the planet, he had not seen anything to be worried about. The meeting during the day had been  
conducted efficiently. Minor disagreements were smoothed out and a date for the next phase of the space station was set. Another star ship would bring the construction crews to work on building the station. His part was done. He should feel proud but it tasted like ashes in his mouth for some reason.

He stole a glance at T'Pol as she used the shovel-like utensil to pick out something looked like a flat biscuit from the container she had been filling in the kitchenette. She had brought some food with her to eat at the dinner. Vulcan food, he surmised. Probably a dried, flattened form of plomeek soup.

Toluc stood up and moved away from the head table to a lectern that was off to the left. A spotlight beamed on him and he straightened self-importantly. With a few discreet coughs to clear his throat, he launched into a long-winded speech about the success of the talks and the future of Cephara. The guests hammered their table tops in approval.

Archer glanced at T'Pol who was staring off into space, oblivious to the racket in the room. He took advantage of the noise to lean near her and whisper, "I'm sorry."

She started and turned with a wide-eyed look of surprise as if she had forgotten he was sitting there. He squashed down the feeling of annoyance and tried to smile. "I apologize, T'Pol. I was 'way out of line."

"What are you apologizing for, Captain," she asked, with that eyebrow arched.

Flustered and embarrassed, he said, "For what happened in our quarters."

A look of confusion flicked through her eyes, then comprehension. "Oh, of course," she replied in a flat monotone as if she wasn't really thinking about what he had said. "I accept your apology, Captain Archer". With that, she returned to gazing off into the middle distance, seemingly pre-occupied.

He couldn't leave it there. Was she angry or not? She didn't seem to be but he had to know. "I should have let you say whatever you were going to tell me. Instead, I had to go and ..." He stopped, realising she wasn't listening. What the hell? "Anyway," he continued, a little lamely to the side of her averted head. "I am very sorry."

She turned with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. "Captain, I have already accepted your apology. There is no need to speak of it further."

Feeling dismissed, he fumed as she turned away again. Here he was obsessing over the incident like an adolescent and she had already forgotten it or put it behind her. He would never understand Vulcans, he decided, especially Vulcan women.

Toluc finished his speech then returned to the table and remained standing. The rest of the company also stood and Archer wondered what was coming next. Toluc took hold of Archer's arm and led him out onto the main part of the floor. A reception line was forming. Archer groaned inwardly at the prospect of shaking all those hairy hands.

The first minister placed Archer next to him in the line and was about to place T'Pol on his other side when she said, "If you will excuse me, I must attend to some personal needs in my quarters. I will return in a short while."

Toluc seemed a little flustered then said, "We have facilities on this floor, Sub-Commander."

She gave Archer a quick, unreadable look, then without a word, strode to the exit. The two guards fell in behind her as she left the room. Archer noted that Dr. Norval narrowed his eyes as he watched her leave, then leaned and whispered to Toluc.

As if to cover for her, Archer said to Toluc, "Females prefer private facilities, First Minister."

Toluc nodded, then turned his attention to the reception line and began to make introductions for Archer. It seemed an interminable time later, when almost the last of the line had passed, that he wondered why T'Pol hadn't returned. A little fear niggled at him that she never intended to come back, that she was off doing whatever she had been planning during the dinner when she seemed so  
distracted. That fear became a certainty a few minutes later.

* * *

As she expected, her military escort followed her back to her quarters. Since she knew that Dr. Norval and Toluc were at the reception, she did not think anyone was watching the monitors, or if they were, it would take some time to alert the doctor and First Minister of what she was doing. Confident that  
she had time, T'Pol hurried into her sleeping cubicle and pulled off the dress, quickly putting on her uniform. She fastened the utility belt and then attached the scanner. Last, she pulled the phase pistol out of the rations container where she had hidden it when she had been in the shuttle. Checking that it was charged up and on stun, she stuck it in her belt and re-entered the main room. Now to get past the guards.

It bothered her that she had been unable to convince Archer that anything was wrong on this planet. He was very pleased with his own success, and seemed unable to believe the Cepharans were not what they appeared or that they had a hidden purpose to the visit. But then, she rationalised, there was no logical reason why he should believe her. So far, she had no proof, just her own intuition. The evidence must be in that classified area in the science building, and she was determined to find it.

With a final adjustment of the utility belt, she was ready. Leaning near the door, she called out, "Soldier, I need some assistance with the fastening on the back of this garment." Immediately, the door opened and one of the guards burst in. She moved behind him and grasped his neck. Nothing happened.

He lurched away from her and raised his weapon. T'Pol pulled the phase pistol and stunned him with a quick blast, then stepped out of the way as he fell. His partner rushed in, looking warily around; she gave him a burst from the phase pistol and he dropped like a stone.

Pulling off their belts, she tied them up and shoved their weapons under her cot. With a quick glance down the hallway to be sure it was deserted, T'Pol left the room and hurried toward what looked like the staircase exit. She had decided the lift might be too dangerous, too exposed. As she hoped, the stairway was empty and she rushed down several floors until she arrived at the bottom. Pushing open a door, she was relieved to find it gave onto an alley behind the building. Taking a moment to orient herself, she moved along the alley to the street, listening intently for any sign of alarm. 'So far, so good, 'she thought. Her heart rate, she noted, was accelerating, but that was to be expected in the circumstances. The failure of the neck pinch disturbed her a little. 'I must remember that all beings do not have nerve endings in the same locations.'

She stepped onto the street, moving quickly in the direction of the science building. Except for some dim street lighting, everything was dark. The shops lining each side of the wide road were closed for the day and very few of those covered vehicles floated by. If their headlights picked out a strange-looking figure trotting along the sidewalk near the shadows of the buildings, it did not seem to raise any alarm from them.

T'Pol kept up a steady, rapid pace. Ahead, she saw a large form move out from an alley. He was poorly dressed and seemed menacing. She recalled what Toluc had said about the dangers of the city at night. Slowing a little, she put her hand on the phase pistol as she closed the distance.

He spoke as she neared him, his words unintelligible as she had left the universal translator with Archer. The growl in his voice and his aggressive stance showed he meant to harm her. Watching him closely, she tried to pass. He blocked her way and lunged. She kicked him in the stomach and he stumbled, doubling over. A solid chop on the back of his neck finished him, but two others appeared from the alley almost immediately. "I don't have time for this," she said to her attackers as they closed in. Pulling the phase pistol, she shot them both with a quick burst, then broke into a run. The science building was only another block ahead.

When she reached the doors of the building, she paused to catch her breath and test the doors. Not surprisingly, they were locked. Through the clear material that covered the entire front of the building, she could see a guard inside, dozing at the security desk. Using the phase pistol on a low setting, she melted the lock. 'I must send a commendation to the engineering team who designed the phase pistol,' she thought as she shoved it back in her belt. 'It really is a multi-purpose device.'

T'Pol carefully pushed the door open and crept toward the security desk. So far, the guard had not awakened. Quietly circling behind him, she observed that the desk held banks of blinking buttons, and monitors which showed various parts of the building. For several seconds, she watched the monitors as they clipped from one scene to another. Some of the labs still had workers in their brightly lit confines, others were dark. She was not interested in those labs, only the one at the top of the building which was in darkness. Looking up, her eyes travelled along the railed corridor which she could see from the open atrium. She noted there was no sign of movement. That was good.

With a slight regret, she hit the guard over the head with her phase pistol, wondering as she did if that would damage the weapon. Though he was sleeping, he might awaken when she took the bubble lift up to the top floor. She swiftly crossed to the lift and stepped in, pushing the button. While earlier that day, the elevating device had seemed fast, now it seemed agonizingly slow as it moved  
past the many floors. At any minute someone could come out of a lab and see her sliding upwards in the lift.

Her mouth was dry when she finally reached the top. She let out a breath she did not realise she had been holding and unclenched her hands. Pushing the open button seemed to bring no response. 'Of course,' she thought, 'you would need a code to get onto this floor. Since I don't have time to figure it out, I'll just blast the door open.' She aimed the phase pistol at the button panel and with a quick burst, was pleased to see the door slide across. The lift suddenly lurched downward. It was falling.

The jarring movement nearly made her fall back into the small cabin. She grabbed the edge of the floor as the lift began to slide away. In a second, it would drag her down with it. With all her strength, she hauled herself onto the floor and rolled away just as the lift hurtled down its track. A heartbeat later, it crashed on the main floor.

T'Pol peered over the edge, her heart drumming deafeningly in her ears. The loud crash of the lift did not seem to have attracted any notice. 'I suppose all the laboratories are sound-proof,' she thought, rising a little shakily. She turned immediately to the corridor and selected a door to try to enter. It was another security door requiring a card and keypad code. She pulled the phase pistol once more and blasted the panel. As she pushed the door open, she thought wryly, 'I hope I am right about this planet's secret or there will be another black mark on my record at Star Fleet. So far, I have destroyed several lock panels, knocked out some guards and wrecked their lift device. Hardly what the service  
would call diplomatic activity.'

Slipping inside, she closed the door, and waited for her eyes to accustom to the dim light. What she saw before her, took her breath away.

* * *

Archer turned from his conversation with a Cepharan businessman to notice a stir of activity next to the First Minister. A guard had rushed up to Toluc and whispered urgently in his floppy ear. Archer thought again how dog-like this species was, and how much they all looked alike. In the seeming absence of females, he deduced they must be using cloning techniques. Those experiments with human embryo were abandoned on Earth long ago, though scientists continued to improve on genetically engineered plants and animals. As he watched Toluc's face turn stony, Archer knew with a sinking feeling, it was something about T'Pol. What trouble had she gotten herself into? Where had she gone? His stomach tightened as Toluc turned toward him, his eyes hard and angry.

The First Minister moved close and bent near Archer's ear, growling curtly, "If you will follow me, Captain Archer, there is an urgent matter we must discuss privately."

Archer drew himself up and took a deep breath, then allowed himself to be led from the hall with an escort of four soldiers as well as Toluc and Norval. The chatter in the room grew more lively as the guests noticed the party's abrupt departure. The noise dwindled away as he moved down the hall toward the lift. They crowded inside and in a few seconds, he was being pushed toward his quarters.

A sense of dread hit him as he began to speculate what he would find. Was she all right? Had she been harmed? One of the guards pressed the button and the apartment door opened. Another guard pushed him inside.

On the floor lay two unconscious soldiers, tied with their own belts. Archer's relief was so great, he nearly laughed aloud. But he sobered immediately. He and T'Pol were in trouble.

Toluc exploded with a sharp gesture at the prone soldiers, "Perhaps you could explain the meaning of this!"

Archer thought fast. The best defence is sometimes an offence. He lashed back, "What the hell kind of security do you have here? My first officer has been kidnapped, right under their noses!" He strode around the room as if looking for clues, then whirled on Toluc. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

Norval had gone into T'Pol's room. He returned carrying her gown, holding it out as if it was contaminated. His tone was harsh, sarcastic as he said, "It seems they were kind enough to wait around while she changed her attire. What kind of kidnappers would do that?" Dropping the dress, he added, "I think she somehow overcame her guards and has slipped out of the building. And I have a good idea where we will find her."

In a flash, Archer knew too where she would be. What had she been about to tell him earlier, before that fiasco with the kiss? It probably had something to do with the science centre. He was mentally kicking himself while trying to formulate a plan. Nothing could be done until T'Pol was found. He was outnumbered and had no weapons, so he would have to play along for now.

"Take him!" Toluc commanded two of the soldiers. They grabbed Archer's arms in a vice-like grip.

The First Minister booted one of the soldiers on the floor. "See that just punishments are allotted to these two." He snorted derisively. "Make sure their punishment is severe. Letting a mere woman do this to them." Toluc shoved the soldier again with his foot then turned to Archer.

The soldiers held him fast and there were two more behind him with their weapons poised and ready. Archer knew struggle at this point would be useless. And it wouldn't get him to T'Pol. His scalp prickled with anger, mostly at himself. She had warned him and he had just humoured her for the most part. He recalled what she had said to him only a month or so before when they were attacked by those wisp creatures. 'You said you trusted me once; trust me now.' Why hadn't he taken some action this time if he trusted her? 'It was my own damned pride,' he realised glumly. 'I wanted this mission to succeed, to go on record as the first contact with this species. All the while, she was trying to convince me there was a threat here. I should have listened and done something.'

The two guards roughly pushed him back into the corridor toward the lift. He just hoped T'Pol would have the sense to know she didn't have much time. Of course, she would. 'She's a hell of a lot smarter than me, it seems.'

* * *

T'Pol closed the door quietly and pressed herself against the wall, continuing to watch and listen. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room. The only sounds came from the hum of the equipment. The entire room was filled with rows of incubators. Her eyebrows raised involuntarily as she took it in. 'There must be over a hundred,' she mused as she crept toward the first row. Squatting  
before the clear, ovoid shape of the artificial womb, she observed the tiny creature inside ...a lone entity floating in its own amniotic sea. Filaments stretched from its abdomen to the equipment. Lights flashed and coloured lines crossed small screens indicating, she surmised, the nutrient levels which must be carefully monitored as the fetus was nourished by the machine.

She leaned her head against the container, watching the little spark of life. Its eye socket dominated the head and tiny buds sprouted where its limbs would be. "Fascinating," she breathed aloud against the glass, misting a small spot next to the fetus. A strange feeling of awe, of reverence took hold of her. She had seen preserved fetuses in labs and live images of babies in-utero, but this was the first time she had witnessed such a phenomenon as a live fetus existing outside its mother. The miracle of life lay open, its mystery apparently solved by these Cepharans.

T'Pol abruptly shook herself. 'I don't have much time,' she recalled as she stood up. She turned on her scanner and made a visual recording of the device and its tiny occupant. Moving quickly down the aisle of incubators, she noted that the fetuses were at different stages of development, the last rows being close to 'birth'. 'Birth, she thought, 'An odd term for creatures nurtured by machines.

Suddenly, a door at the end of the room opened, spilling light briefly into the dark interior. A male in a lab coat stepped out. He was carrying a device similar to a padd and proceeded to move slowly down the aisles of incubators, checking the equipment and punching in something on the keypad of his recorder.

She knew she had to immobilize him if she was to get into that room. So far, he was unaware that he was not alone. She hid behind one of the incubators near the first row and waited. As he passed, she sprang up behind him and hit him on the head with the phase pistol. He fell with a soft thump, his padd skittering across the floor.

Realising that the door to the other room had a coded lock, she quickly searched him for the card. She found it in the pocket of his lab coat, and with the card in hand, swiftly moved to the door. A quick swipe of the card brought the desired result. The lock clicked open. She turned the handle and rushed inside.

* * *

Tucker was uncomfortable with the Vulcans literally breathing down his neck. In the tight confines of the Suliban craft, he scarcely had room to move. A quick glance at Mayweather showed the ensign did not seem uneasy, only preoccupied with piloting the small ship.

"We're nearin' the lower atmosphere, Travis. Turn on the cloakin' device." His voice sounded high and nervous to his own ears. He held his breath and prayed silently that the device was still working.

"We're cloaked, sir," Travis replied, the relief evident in his voice. "Following the co-ordinates we should be over the city in about three minutes."

N'Vara leaned closer to Tucker. "Are they scanning us? Can you tell if their sensors can detect this craft?"

Tucker checked the small screens. "As far as I can tell, Commissioner, we're invisible to 'em." He was slightly irritated by her calm, flat tone. His mouth was drying and pulse galloping now that they were close to the action. N'Vara seemed as nonchalant as if they were on a Sunday drive in the park. He could see a sheen of sweat on Mayweather and was uncomfortably aware that he was also perspiring freely. A trickle of sweat was sliding down his neck from his hair and the back of his jacket felt damp. The Vulcans already let them know on more than one occasion that they smelled bad. "People who eat meat," T'Pol had told him once, "have a particularly offensive odour to Vulcans." How much worse must it be for their sensitive noses in this tiny cabin.

Silence settled over the five as they watched the clouds stream by. Mayweather dropped the craft down to a level of a thousand metres above the surface and they skimmed over the landscape, heading for the faint glowing lights of the city ahead.

"Slow 'er down, Travis. We gotta look for a landin' site inside the city once we're over the walls." The city was splayed out under them as they passed over the high walls. Dimly lit streets passed under the invisible craft. Below, Tucker could make out what looked like tiny vehicles moving along the streets.  
"Start checkin' for human and Vulcan life signatures, Travis. It's a big city and they could be anywhere."

"Commander, I just detected a trace from a phase pistol." Mayweather sounded excited as he concentrated on his monitors.

"Where?" Tucker's heart leaped. This could be a break.

"That large building over there, the one that looks like a palace."

"Take us over it, Travis. We'll check 'er out. Any life signs of the captain or sub-commander inside?"

"No sir, just the remnants from the phase pistol." Mayweather's face looked disheartened as he turned to Tucker. "Now what, sir?"

N'Vara's voice cut in sharply as she leaned forward. "This is what comes of your plan, Commander Tucker. We could spend the whole night scanning the city without ever finding them. Return to the Enterprise. We will bring a large force as I originally wanted to do."

Tucker knew he was in a bad spot. N'Vara was the superior officer, put in charge by Star Fleet, and if he disobeyed her, he could be court-martialled. His hands on the controls were slippery with sweat as he swallowed hard, trying to decide what to do. He didn't have much time to come up with something.

Mayweather broke into his thoughts. "There's another phase pistol trace on the street below us. If we follow in a straight line, it leads to that long flat building ahead. The one where the lights are still on."

Tucker let out a relieved breath, and thanked the lord for Travis. He had a cool head in emergencies and was one hundred percent reliable. "OK, take us over the building and check for any more phase pistol traces. I'll watch for life signs."

"Aye, aye sir," Travis replied with a quick look at Tucker. A small smile hovered over his lips then he turned to his instruments.

* * *

The room was much larger than she expected. And brilliantly lit. The bright light hurt her eyes after the darkness in the incubator room. Her inner eyelid shut almost without her noticing. T'Pol stood with her back to the door, trying to decide where to start. Her eyes passed over long banks of equipment with  
dials, screens and flashing buttons. On the wall, she could see monitors showing various parts of the building and perimeter. This was obviously the nerve centre of the structure. One of the screens was dark. She had a feeling she knew where that screen was concentrated as she repressed a momentary feeling of disgust.

Based on her deductions, T'Pol was sure that the evidence she sought was in here somewhere. She moved past the large machines toward another area that looked like a laboratory. Here again, she observed some pieces of Vulcan equipment among the array. She turned on one of the microscopes, selected a plate and looked at it with a well-practiced eye. It confirmed what she suspected. Other  
slides showed the same features. One mystery was solved, but another, deeper one beckoned. What happened to the females on this planet?

'If only I could read their language,' she thought, selecting what looked like a data disc from a large group in a vertical file. 'It would take forever to get through all these discs and the data might not even be here. I could take some back to Enterprise for Ensign Sato to analyse. But first, I will see if it is  
on a database in these computers.'

Clicking quickly she fingered the keypad, then inserted the code card. The screen displayed some characters. She pressed a button and another screen opened with more strange characters. Frustrated, she began to press buttons randomly, hoping some sequence would unlock the database. She knew it was illogical and her chances were poor, but she had to try.

Unnoticed behind her, the monitors showed a large group of males entering the building. They passed the unguarded security desk, the destroyed bubble lift and then entered an empty lift and started upward. One of the males was held tightly between two soldiers; his face was stern, angry.

* * *

"Another phase pistol trace, Commander," Mayweather said, as he focussed on his screen. "Right there, in that big building."

"I'm getting life signs inside the building, lots of 'em." Tucker suddenly whooped with glee. "I'm picking up the captain's bio-sign, and there's the sub-commander's. She's stationary and the cap'n with five others are moving toward her."

He felt N'Vara stir behind him as she craned forward to see through the window and at the instrument panel. "It seems you were right, Commander Tucker. Your plan has resulted in success. Now we must rescue them from the building."

Tucker breathed a sign of relief that his captain was found. Not only that, but N'Vara had made a major concession to him and he was sure it cost her plenty to admit it. His respect for her went up several notches. He grinned at his co-pilot. "OK, Mr. Mayweather. Take us over the top. We'll set 'er down on the roof."

Once on the roof, they shut down the engines and the craft was uncloaked. Tucker got out and surveyed the area, looking for an entrance into the floor below. Other than a large vent, he could see nothing but a flat expanse. Unlike Earth buildings, this one did not seem to have any way of getting inside from the roof. He was in a quandary. The main floor was several storeys below and they might be seen going in that way, especially since they would have to take the shuttle down where it would be uncloaked while they were inside.

"How thick is this roofing material, Mr. Mayweather?"

The ensign, who was still sitting in the craft, flipped a few switches to temporarily turn the engine on, then studied several of the dials on the instrument panel. "About a half metre, sir."

Tucker grimaced. That was pretty thick. It would take a long time to get through it even with all their phase pistols on full. The Suliban craft had some torpedoes, but the noise of the explosion would attract attention. Meanwhile, he was sure the party with the captain must have met with the sub-commander by now. Without knowing their intentions, he felt helpless on the roof, unable to get to  
them.

N'Vara had climbed out of the Suliban craft and was looking around, her face impassive but her eyes darting everywhere. "Cemus, Linak," she called to the two Vulcans. "Take your weapons and begin cutting a hole in that vent structure. It must lead into the building's duct system."

The two Vulcans bowed slightly and moved to the vent with their phase pistols. Tucker looked at the vent dubiously. They would have to go in one at a time and who knew where the thing would lead. He returned to the craft and leaned in to Mayweather. "See if you can get a fix on that vent, see if you can follow where it leads to on the top floor."

Mayweather nodded and began to work the now-familiar instruments. "It has openings in all the rooms, sir. I can plot a sort of schematic if you like, so we know where we're going once we're in."

"Yeah, Travis. Do it. We're goin' to need all the help we can get."

Tucker turned back to watch the Vulcans working on the vent. It seemed to be a tough alloy but they were making progress. He moved beside them and added the power of his own phase pistol to the effort.

* * *

T'Pol hammered on the keypanel in frustration. 'This is an illogical waste of time! I must find some proof or Captain Archer will be blamed for all the destruction I have done on Cephara and the mission will be deemed a failure. They will hardly forgive such an invasion.' She moved away from the computer and began to search for a hidden room, deciding that secret data would be kept where  
only a select few could find it. On the far wall was a large cabinet. Striding quickly to it, she felt all over the panels and shelves, hoping to find a catch that might open a door or move the cabinet. It seemed like the only logical place for an opening. All of the other walls were perfectly smooth with no  
visible breaks.

Her fingers encountered a little latch in a tiny space just behind the cabinet. She pressed it and the cabinet moved slightly. It took an great effort to haul the large unit open, but she did it and was rewarded. As she moved inside what was a small room, the lights came on automatically. A secret laboratory, complete with computers, microscopes, data discs and a large array of analysers.

With hurried motions, she turned on the computer and pulled one of the data discs from the stack, then inserted it into an opening on the computer. The monitor lit up and began to show a series of images, appalling images. T'Pol drew in a deep breath and clenched her hands as she watched what looked like a video broadcast. A voice from the speakers growled in the Cepharan language but she did not need to understand it to know what the images were showing.

On the screen were live action pictures of males fully covered in white suits with helmets and breathing apparatus carrying white-wrapped bodies and stacking them like wood onto large flat trailers. The bundles were of varying sizes, suggesting different ages. But T'Pol knew somehow the bodies inside were all females. She could hardly breathe as she watched, paralysed by horror. The  
scene switched to a close-up view of a female Cepharan. She had the usual floppy ears and dog-like appearance of the race, but on her face were some small red pustules. In the next sequence, the pustules were much larger and turning black. The following image was so horrific, T'Pol swallowed hard, to force the bile from rising in her throat. Lesions on the victim's face bled openly and the skin  
was peeling away. The face was hardly recognisable any longer. The voice-over droned on, probably describing the course of the disease.

T'Pol shuddered. 'Now I know what happened to the females on this planet. I still need to know how it happened.' She took the disc and slipped it into her pocket, noting as she did that her hand was trembling a little. The enormity of what she had witnessed had shaken her badly.

She searched the laboratory for more clues to what she now suspected. A sound behind caused her to turn with her hand already on the phase pistol. In the opening stood Toluc, his face dark with wrath.

"Your curiosity, Sub-commander, has led you far. I congratulate your diligence and intelligence. You will put down your weapon since as you see, we have your captain." Toluc moved aside so she could see Archer in the grip of two Cepharan soldiers who towered over him by several inches.

"If you harm my captain, I will kill you," T'Pol replied coolly, never taking her eyes off Toluc.

"Killing me will make little difference. The Council will simply appoint another First Minister. But I have a feeling that your captain's death would affect you deeply. And it would serve no purpose. Everything has been set in motion and cannot be stopped. If you will follow me, Sub-commander, I will explain what it seems you have just found."

Toluc backed out of the entrance and moved further into the outer office. T'Pol followed warily with her finger on the trigger, ready to fire. Outnumbered, and outgunned, she took in the four soldiers, all armed, two holding Archer and two with their weapons aimed at her. She had no chance and a hasty move could cause the captain's death. The tremor from that thought surprised her and she quickly repressed it.

Norval was standing in the office, a gleeful look on his face. A rush of revulsion washed over T'Pol and again she stifled her feelings, trying to keep a clear mind.

* * *

Using their combined strength, the Vulcans, Tucker and Mayweather heaved the top off the vent and set it aside. Tucker was getting weary. It had already been a long day and it looked like it wouldn't end anytime soon. He switched on his flashlight, preparing to lower himself into the dark cavity in the roof. "I'll go first," he said as he looked at each member of the group, but especially at N'Vara from whom he expected an argument. Surprisingly, she nodded. It was his show now, he guessed.

As he slid into the narrow confines of the vent, head-first with the flashlight in front, he experienced a sudden panic. He recalled how Hoshi was claustrophobic. She would never survive this little expedition into this dark, tight space. He squirmed downward, his breathing loud and echoing in his ears. The light penetrated only a short distance and he was terrified of getting stuck. Mayweather had said the ducts were wide enough for them to crawl through, as far as he could read the Suliban numerals, that is.

The ducts turned this way and that. Cool air brushed over his heated face as he wormed his way along the duct. Behind him, he could hear the others, their shuffling sounds loud. He wondered if they could be heard inside the building, particularly on the top floor. The ducts branched and recalling Mayweather's schematic, he took the right. Ahead, he could see a small pool of light. It must  
be one of the rooms. He didn't care which one as long as he could get out of this damned tunnel.

* * *

"This story goes back over a generation, Sub-commander, so I must beg you to be patient while I explain." Toluc had moved next to Norval who was standing near a large piece of equipment. The doctor had been studying the panel and pushing some buttons, but he stopped when the First Minister touched his arm.

T'Pol kept her pistol steady as she moved into the room, then placed herself against a wall. "I have already drawn many conclusions, First Minister, so you may save time by telling me what killed all the females on your planet? What disease could cause such specific devastation?"

Toluc nodded then clasped his hands in front of him, like a teacher about to give a lesson. "There were two main nations on this planet, this one Flaeron and the other Valeron. Valeron was extremely prosperous; it seemed they inhabited the best parts of the planet with the most resources and most congenial climate. Life was much harder in Flaeron; we had not progressed as quickly as they. We  
traded our minerals and other natural resources for their advanced technology. But they withheld important information from us to keep us behind them. We knew it and it caused much resentment by our scientists. There were cultural differences too. We kept our females in their natural roles as bearers of the young and keepers of the home. Our females did not participate in public life nor did we feel that education should be wasted on them as they had not the capacity to use it."

T'Pol gritted her teeth and flashed a look at Archer. His eyes were narrowed and brows drawn down but for the moment, seemed to be just listening. She noted that his uniform was mussed and there was a small cut on his jaw. The blood had dried but it was evident that he had struggled before being taken.

"I know Vulcan females are different, Sub-commander so you should not judge us by your standards. The females in Valeron were allowed all the freedoms of the males; they held public offices, were educated and wore scandalous clothing on the streets. These differences caused even more friction as some of our females slipped across the river that is the border between the two nations. Our guards  
were told at first to just capture them and bring them back where they would be punished, but as the numbers increased, we had to be more forceful. The border guards were ordered to fire and kill if necessary."

T'Pol observed that Archer's fists were clenched, his knuckles white with tension. She hoped he would not take any action as she had not yet formed a plan of escape.

Toluc recaptured her attention, as he continued, "It was inevitable that skirmishes along our border would develop as the Valerons tried to help these traitorous females escape into their lands. The border clashes escalated into a war. About this time, a Vulcan ship appeared."

T'Pol noted how Archer's mouth opened in a soundless gasp, and he gave her a very hard look, his eyebrows drawn tightly over his piercing eyes. She shook her head as if to deny that she knew anything about that and hoped he would understand the gesture.

"I saw the Vulcan equipment in your labs earlier today, First Minister, when Dr. Norval gave me the tour of this facility. It aroused my suspicion of this whole mission and its true purpose." She glanced at Archer again and saw him relax slightly but the wary look remained in his eyes. He did not trust Vulcans, and it seemed now, for good reason.

Toluc smiled. "You are very astute, Sub-commander." He drew in a deep breath and continued, "The Vulcans had heeded our beamed message, as you did. They sent down a team to contact us, then later, they returned with a science team which they left on Cephara. Some of the scientists went to Valeron and others remained here in Flaeron. Along with the scientists, the Vulcans gave us various types of analysers and other apparatus to aid our research. We had been plagued by many diseases and your scientists, especially D'Nar, worked with our own to find cures. The war increased in violence. Meanwhile, your scientist, D'Nar showed us how to unlock the genetic code, to engineer better plants and animals to be disease resistant. He helped us find cures for some of the worst of our own diseases. He stayed for several years. The war remained mainly along the border and did not affect our city. Otherwise, I am sure your Vulcan government would never have left their scientists here. In return for the favour, we granted Vulcan unlimited access to the mineral resources and they set up some mining operations in the far north of Flaeron."

Norval stepped forward and took over the narrative. "The war began to extend beyond the borders as the Valerons crossed into our territory. It seemed they were determined to free our females and turn them into the same abominations as their own." His voice grated harshly on T'Pol's nerves as he continued. "We learned through our agents in Valeron that they were developing a bomb, an ultimate weapon that would contaminate all life forms in Flaeron. Our farms supplied us with food and this was a threat to our very existence."

"We began to work on a secret weapon of our own, something so devastating that they would never dare threaten us again." Norval drew himself up straighter; his eyes sparkled and his face flushed with excitement. "We developed a bio-toxin engineered to attack only Valeron females; a toxin so deadly it would kill in only a few days."

T'Pol leaned against the wall for support while keeping her face blank. She clenched the phase pistol more tightly, sorely tempted to turn it on the doctor and destroy him. Hardly able to breathe, she rasped, "But of course, viruses mutate, Dr. Norval. You must have known that."

Norval looked straight into her eyes. He seemed unrepentant; if anything, T'Pol decided, he acted as if everything had turned out as he had planned. She wondered if his hatred of females would extend to destroying them all.

He resumed speaking as if giving a lecture to students, his tone emotionless, flat. "The Valerons threatened to use their bomb if we did not capitulate and let them take over our government and nation. A three-day deadline was all they gave us. By this time, we had perfected our own bomb. On the second day of the deadline, we sent missiles with the toxin in the warheads. They exploded in the  
atmosphere over Valeron and drifted on the wind into their towns and cities."

Rubbing his hands, he said, "The toxin performed exactly as engineered. Within a day, the infection began with a rash and high fever. Then the disease followed a rapid course and the victim died within forty-eight hours. It was a total success." His face tightened with anger. "If those Valeron women had not crossed the border into Flaeron, our females would have been spared. But they tried to escape the disease by coming into our lands. And then, as you said, Sub-commander, the virus mutated."

Toluc began to speak again, his voice grave. "After we sent our missiles at them, they retaliated with their own. Their bomb made every edible thing toxic including the water. Besides the virus, we had to cope with feeding those who were left. For several months, it was utter chaos. You could not imagine what it was like in Flaeron. The females died by the thousands and had to be removed and buried. The males in the outlying areas were starving and trying to come into the city. We had to set up a perimeter around the city and build walls to stop them from entering the city as the population was getting too large to handle."

T'Pol moistened her mouth. It was dry, and her heart was pounding in her ears. Never had she heard of such atrocities. She gasped, "What happened to the Vulcan scientists during all this? Did D'Nar participate in creating this virus?"

"They had signalled to their ships after the bombs and all Vulcans were removed from Cephara including the mining operation. Except for D'Nar. We found him trying to destroy his notes and records. One of the guards killed him accidentally while trying to stop him." Toluc spread his hirsute hands in an apologetic gesture. "He did not know about our secret weapon. We never intended to harm him but he could not be allowed to destroy all that knowledge. As a person trained in logic, you understand."

Archer lunged forward, only to be restrained by the soldiers holding him. "You heartless bastards!" he shouted as he struggled to get to them. "Standing here calmly talking about how you murdered all the women on your planet!" One of the guards placed a gun to Archer's head and he stopped struggling. His breathing was loud in the sudden silence of the room. He growled, "What did you really want from us?"

T'Pol relaxed her grip on the phase pistol. Keeping her voice carefully neutral, she said, "I can answer that for you, Captain. They want our DNA. You saw the incubators? The fetuses are all clones. Genetically, they will be weaker than the original donors, and after this generation, weaker still. The gene pool is not diverse enough. Many will age prematurely and die before adulthood; others will suffer from organ failures. The Cepharans need new genetic material to continue their race." She turned to Toluc who was nodding in affirmation.

"Again, Sub-commander, you astound me with your prescience. We did hope to gather the DNA without your knowledge from things you handled such as your eating utensils. We have Captain Archer's DNA samples and our scientists are working with them now. But you, Sub-commander, proved a more difficult subject since you did not eat anything that we gave you."

Toluc stepped toward her, his eyes brightening as they moved over her slowly. She was repelled by his look, and would have moved away, but her back was against the wall. He reached out as if to take her hand, but T'Pol raised the phase pistol and aimed it at his head. In a voice high with excitement, Toluc said, "I am about to offer you something beyond your wildest dreams."

"Touch me and I will shoot," she warned.

Toluc dropped his hands to his sides and smiled. "There is no need for violence, Sub-commander. We mean you no harm. Far from it, we are prepared to venerate you as a goddess, the regenerator of our race."

The dramatic stillness was broken by Archer's sudden laugh. "You've got to be kidding, Toluc. A Vulcan could never be bought off by an offer like that."

"Captain Archer is right. I reject this vile offer. I will not help you in any way." T'Pol realised she was trembling with the effort to repress her anger and took several deep slow breaths to compose herself.

Toluc's voice was hushed, almost breathless, his hands out imploringly, "You will become our queen, T'Pol Queen of Cephara. Your descendants will be princes and princesses. You will have palaces, servants, anything you want. It will all be yours. Your DNA will save our race and the nation will show its gratitude by raising you above your people to the sublime level of deity. In another generation, Sub-commander, our race will be extinct."

"As you deserve to be," she observed dryly. "I cannot help you, nor am I willing to. You think I would help monsters like you create other monsters. I would die first."

"I hope it won't come to that, Sub-commander. You may be willing to die, but are you willing to let your captain die?" Toluc's face broke into a feral grin.

T'Pol shook her head. "It is obvious you know nothing about Vulcans or you would realise how empty a threat that is."

He flipped on the view screen and there were vivid images of herself and the captain in a tight embrace; the intimate sounds of their breathing hammered in her ears. "It would seem there is more to your relationship with your captain than that of superior officer and subordinate."

She raised her eyebrows significantly at Archer and he gave her a small apologetic smile and had the grace to blush.

Norval pushed past Toluc and confronted her. He whirled on Toluc. "I told you she would not co- operate! Typical of a female, she does not care about the greater good but is selfish and cruel; she cannot think past her own childish wishes." He turned back to T'Pol. "You will put down that weapon or your captain will be killed before your eyes. Those weapons our soldiers carry have many levels. They are set on the lowest level now, set to stun. I will order them to be moved to the highest levelâ€”kill. Your captain will be blasted apart. Hardly enough will remain to bury."

Archer fought against his captors and shouted, "Don't do it, T'Pol!"

But she could see the madness in Norval's eyes, the inexorable purpose hidden there. Archer would be killed needlessly and they would still have their DNA. She put the safety lock on and slowly set the weapon of the floor. As Norval bent to pick it up, she lunged, taking him to the ground and wrapping her fingers around his throat. He gagged and tore at her hands, his eyes bulging as he struggled frantically.

Suddenly she felt something prick her arm. Turning she saw Toluc with a syringe in his hand. Then, as if from a long distance, she heard the sounds of shouts and scuffling, and finally blackness.

* * *

Her first sensations were warmth and a drumming sound in her ears. Gingerly opening her eyes, she felt the captain move; his voice rumbled in her ear. She was lying against his chest, listening to his heart. The beat accelerated as he shifted to make her more comfortable, holding her close with his arm around her.

T'Pol tried to sit up then lapsed back against his chest. She was dizzy and a little nauseous. "How long...?"

"Only about ten minutes. It must have been a mild sedative Toluc shot you with. What did you think you were doing, attacking Norval? Did your emotions get the better of you, T'Pol?"

"Of course not, Captain. I merely thought that if I could kill Norval, the whole scheme of hybridizing Vulcans and Cepharans would come to an end. I was logically willing to sacrifice myself to that purpose."

"Actually, I think you lost it, T'Pol," Archer laughed. "And I don't blame you." When he smiled, the split in his lip widened and bled a little. He sucked in a sharp breath and touched the wound tentatively with his tongue.

"You are hurt, Captain." T'Pol pushed away from him to get a better look at his face. There were several contusions on his cheek and jaw, and a bruise was developing on his forehead. The sleeve of his dress jacket was torn and several buttons were missing.

"You should see the other guy," he laughed then yelped and licked his lip. Archer's face grew grave. "I tried to stop them but that ghoul Norval took some blood from you as well as saliva and tissue samples. If I ever get my hands on that bastard..."

T'Pol said urgently, "We must retrieve that genetic material! They do not know what they are dealing with." She knew she should move away from Archer, but his warmth was comforting and she needed his help. "Before Surak, Vulcans were a savage race, the terror of the galaxy. It takes a lifetime of training and discipline to overcome that kind of barbarism and learn to repress those primitive emotions. If the Cepharans succeed in splicing Vulcan genes to their own, the Vulcan gene will be dominant. The resulting offspring will be fierce and bloodthirsty, like wild animals. We must stop them!"

A sound above the room stilled them to sudden silence. Archer pulled her closer as they gazed at the ceiling, wondering what was stirring up there. The noise came again, a scuffling, scraping sound.

Archer put his finger to his lips to warn her to be quiet as he rose carefully while helping her up. Together, they waited as the sounds drew nearer; they seemed to be coming from the vent in the ceiling.

"Rodents?" T'Pol whispered in his ear.

"If they are, I hope they can't get through the vent. They must be huge, judging by the noise they're making," he whispered back. He placed himself closer to the opening while keeping his arm protectively around her. She found the sensation oddly pleasing.

"Cap'n?" a voice called softly through the grilled vent. "It's me, Trip. Help me open this thing so's we can get outta here."

"T'Pol, help me with this desk. We'll put it underneath and I'll try to pull the grille off." Once the desk was in place, Archer climbed up to see how the cover was fastened.

"I don't have anything open it with, Trip. You'll have to blast it with your phase pistol. We'll stand back when you're ready." Archer jumped off the desk and with T'Pol, moved away from vent. A second later a bright light flashed out of the opening and the grille dropped onto the desk.

Archer scrambled up quickly to help Trip slide through and T'Pol gave him a hand to get off the desk. Next came a Vulcan woman. When she turned to T'Pol, the sub-commander gasped in surprise.

"N'Vara!" T'Pol quickly recovered and added, "I greet you, my mother." She raised her hand and pressed her palm to N'Vara's for a few seconds while bowing her head.

Archer turned from assisting Mayweather through the opening. "Your mother?" When the ensign was safely on the ground, Archer stepped over to N'Vara while Tucker helped the two Vulcans onto the desk.

"I've heard of you, Commissioner N'Vara. I was told that it's mostly because of you that the Enterprise was given the mission of testing out the first warp engine." He glanced quickly at T'Pol then N'Vara. "But I never suspected that T'Pol was your daughter. In a way, it does make sense that my science officer would be related to the woman who believed in us. I'm glad I've got the chance to thank you."

"For what, Captain Archer? The Enterprise or for my daughter?" N'Vara crooked her eyebrow at him, then turned to T'Pol without waiting for his answer.

T'Pol was relieved. She didn't know what he would say. She spoke quickly to N'Vara in Vulcan, relating briefly what had happened. Her mother's face was impassive as always but her eyes betrayed a deep wrath.

With a quick movement, N'Vara turned to Archer. "You will get the other shuttle and meet us on the roof. T'Pol, Cemus, Linak and I will take care of this matter from here on." She took the phase pistol from Tucker and handed it to her daughter. "You won't need a weapon, Commander Tucker," she said tersely.

N'Vara aimed at the door and blasted a hole next to the control panel. Cemus, her lieutenant, heaved against the door and it fell open. N'Vara waved her hand at Archer and the others, "Get to the Suliban vessel and bring the other shuttle to the roof. We will meet you there in less than ten minutes."

T'Pol knew that look on Archer's face. He was about to argue. Obviously, he didn't like to be ordered about by a Vulcan or have his authority usurped. She stepped between Archer and N'Vara, hoping to defuse an awkward situation. "This is a Vulcan matter, Captain Archer. We must put right what we have done here. Please do as N'Vara asks."

Archer planted his feet firmly. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you're going to do."

N'Vara straightened and fixed him with a baleful look. "You are under my orders, Captain, as commanded by your own Star Fleet. What we do is our business. We must clean up the contamination we left here."

She grasped T'Pol by the arm and led her through the broken door before he could reply. The two Vulcans followed closely as they hurried down the corridor. They stopped where the hallway branched.

T'Pol whispered to N'Vara, "We were locked in an office a short distance from the laboratories. I will show you the way to the labs where they are likely working with the DNA."

She turned to the right and sprinted down the hall until she arrived at the end, then halted and peered around the corner. About halfway down the corridor, two guards stood outside the laboratory door, chatting quietly. The others caught up and T'Pol signalled caution. She leaned out and aimed carefully then fired two bursts from her phase pistol. The guards dropped almost soundlessly to the floor.

"There were four guards, N'Vara," T'Pol whispered. "The other two must be inside the lab with Toluc and Norval."

The four Vulcans rushed down the corridor and burst into the laboratory. N'Vara stopped abruptly, apparently astounded by the rows of incubators. She shook her head in wonder at all the small glass uteruses with their tiny occupants. "I have never seen anything like this," she whispered in awe. "It is a scientific marvel."

"They are all male, N'Vara," T'Pol said close to her mother's ear. "I believe they were hoping to use my genetic material with the extra chromosome to create a new race of females who would be immune to the virus."

N'Vara nodded, then with a regretful look at T'Pol, said, "Let us get on with it and do what we came to do."

* * *

Archer strode back and forth in front of the shuttle, stopping now and then to look into the vent opening. "What the hell is keeping them? Ten minutes or less she said." He marched over to where Tucker was lounging against the Suliban craft. "I'll give them two more minutes, then I'm going in after them. Get ready to take off at a moment's notice."

Mayweather had been sitting in the co-pilot's seat, watching the monitors. Now he cut in with an exclamation, "Captain! Phaser fire, lots of it, and I'm getting other kinds of energy too, like bolts of electricity or something. Must be the Cepharan weapons. Seems like a fire fight is going on down there." His eyes were bright and excited. "What should we do, Captain?"

"Keep that craft ready for take-off and put the weapons online, Mr. Mayweather. We may need them. Tucker, get the shuttle engines warmed and have the weapons ready. I'm going back into the building."

As Archer started toward the vent, he saw T'Pol climbing out. She turned and helped her mother, then Linak. He hurried over. "Where's Cemus?"

N'Vara answered breathlessly, "He was hit by a Cepharan weapon but was following us. He is still inside the duct. I don't know if he is alive or dead by now. There is no room to turn around so we had to leave him."

"I'll get him out," Archer said. He turned on the flashlight he had taken from Tucker and began to climb into the vent.

N'Vara grabbed his arm. "Captain Archer, look down in the street! The rest of the guards have been alerted and are on their way into the building. Some are heading this way in those hover cars. We are outnumbered and will soon be captured. As a commander, you must think of the good of the many, at the sacrifice of the few. You must leave Cemus."

Archer shook her hand off and growled, "I don't leave any crew behind." With that, he slipped into the vent. He crawled an agonizing distance until he saw a dark form just ahead.

"Cemus!" he called out. There was no answer from the inert figure. He struggled up to the Vulcan and felt his temple for a pulse. It was weak and thready but there. "I'm going to get you out of here, man," he said to the unconscious Vulcan. Taking hold of Cemus's jacket, he backed up, slowly worming his way, dragging and pulling the heavy lieutenant. As he neared the opening, he could hear the sound of phaser fire and other explosions.

He worked his way up and out of the vent, keeping hold of Cemus. T'Pol crouched beside the vent, firing at the hover cars. The guards inside the cars leaned out the vehicles' windows, shooting what looked like lightning bolts at the defenders on the roof. She helped Archer pull Cemus onto the roof, then Tucker and Linak rushed over and picked him up and carried him to the shuttle. The Suliban craft's engine whined into high throttle as Mayweather revved it up.

Explosions slammed into the roof, setting fires. T'Pol helped Archer to his feet and together they sprinted across the roof to the waiting shuttles. Archer took the pilot seat on the Enterprise shuttle and T'Pol settled into the co-pilot seat. N'Vara and Linak were already in the Suliban craft and the hatches were closed, ready to go. Tucker gave Archer the thumbs up signal and he lifted off. Seconds later, the craft cloaked and disappeared.

"Wish we could do that,"Archer grumbled as he took off with the hover cars chasing him. A blast rocked the small craft and the instruments went black. For a soul-jarring second, the shuttle began to fall toward the ground. "Switching to auxilliary," T'Pol said promptly and the engine reactivated.

"Full throttle forward, Sub-commander," Archer said as he pressed the buttons for the rear cannons. The guns flashed and the shuttle lurched with the force of their acceleration. Soon they had left the planet behind and entered the upper atmosphere. "Plot a course back to the Enterprise." And home he added to himself as he settled, weary but relieved, against the seat.

He glanced across at T'Pol. She had scarcely blinked when the engines cut and they were free-falling. Maybe there was something to repressing the emotions after all. He covertly watched her concentrating on the instrument panel, her fingers efficiently plotting in the numbers. In the darkness of the cabin, the greenish glow of the instruments cast eerie highlights on her face, the numbers  
reflected in her eyes. She looked like she belonged here in space, an alien creature, unknowable and exotic like one of those entities in the comic books he had read as a kid. He was tempted to touch her to be sure she was real but he held back. At that moment, a strange melancholy crept over him, the feeling that she was like a distant galaxy, untouchable, forever beyond his reach.

* * *

"Time's up!" Dr. Phlox said cheerily through the intercom. "All the tests came back negative, so you can all leave the decon chamber." The group arose from the benches almost as one and began to move toward the exit door. "Except Captain Archer and Sub-commander T'Pol. You were on the planet longest, so I want you to remain in decon for another hour. Just to be sure."

Archer sighed heavily and relapsed onto the bench as the Vulcans, Tucker and Mayweather filed out. The other Vulcan, Cemus, had revived in the shuttle during the trip back to the Enterprise. He was in bad shape with an ugly burn on his back where the Cepharan weapon had hit him. Dr. Phlox had placed him in an isolation chamber and taken him to sickbay. T'Pol had signalled ahead for what  
they would need and everything was ready when the shuttle docked in the launch bay. Everyone else was hustled to the decontamination chamber where they had remained for over an hour.

Phlox had taken blood samples and throat swabs to be sure they had not brought the deadly virus back with them. The doctor was appalled when Archer had told him about the bio-toxins and the chemical warfare on the planet. Phlox had said, "To think of such a thing is monstrous, but to actually use it..." The doctor had gone away with the specimens, shaking his head, his usually affable face  
sober and thoughtful. He returned a short while later to speak with Archer.

"I'll set the timer for an hour. When it buzzes, you can go." Phlox gave the last two occupants of decon a wide smile and left the control booth.

Archer closed his eyes against the ultraviolet light, trying to contain his impatience. He was in a foul mood and he wanted to be alone. Another hour with nothing to do. He sighed and tried to relax. It was hard to do with T'Pol sitting only a few feet away. She seemed to be perfectly content to just sit  
there. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, and he knew she was meditating. It annoyed him that she could remove herself so completely from him, as if he didn't exist. She was in another space, a space that he could not enter.

He got up and began to pace, casting a quick look at her now and then to see if he was disturbing her. He hoped he was. But she remained perfectly still as if asleep. Her breasts hardly rose and fell. Some contrary and admittedly childish impulse made him want her to acknowledge he was in the room. He stopped in front of her.

"What did you do on the planet? All that shooting. What were you doing?" His voice sounded gruffer than he intended. Her eyes, when they opened were at first disoriented, then defensive.

"Ask N'Vara," she replied calmly and closed her eyes, settling once more with her hands folded on her lap, leaning against the wall.

Archer squatted before her. "You know she won't tell me anything. So I'm asking you. As your superior officer, what happened on the planet? Did you kill Toluc and Norval?"

When she opened her eyes again, there was a glint of arrogance in them. "I don't answer to you, Captain Archer. I am employed by the Vulcan High Command and answer only to them. It is a Vulcan matter that has now been settled, finished. If N'Vara wants you to know more, she will tell you."

Archer's scalp prickled with rage. "Damn all Vulcans!" he bellowed as he strode across the small chamber. Leaning with his hand against the wall, while looking at her, he bit down on a torrent of invective that had built up against Vulcans over the years. He was bitter that his father had not lived to see his dream come true. It was the Vulcans' fault. They had held back knowledge from his father that would have seen the warp engine built faster. The High Command had not told him about this planet either, that lack which nearly killed him and T'Pol. Now she was doing the same, holding out on him. He watched her as she closed her eyes once more as if she was trying to return to her meditation. She  
had clenched her hands and her breathing seemed to have quickened slightly, though her face remained impassive. It seemed like a small victory, to have gotten through that icy exterior and made her angry.

Immediately, he regretted it. He was in a peevish temper, confined with T'Pol who was ignoring him, and bored with nothing to do and weary to the bone. All he wanted to do was get to his quarters and lie down until his shift. He felt depressed. The whole mission had been a fiasco, almost resulting in their deaths and causing the injury to Cemus. Phlox said the Vulcan would make a full recovery, but that hardly assuaged Archer's guilt. Now he was taking it out on T'Pol. She didn't deserve it. She had been trying all along to warn him, but he wanted more than anything to make the mission a success. Ambition had blinded him to the clues all around that T'Pol had picked up. To be fair to himself, she  
was more sensitive, intuitive and a scientist, but that didn't excuse his behaviour.

He came back and sat beside her on the bench, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could feel her warmth radiating toward him. Even in the cool decon chamber under those UV lights, she was several degrees warmer than a human. He knew she was aware of him; her chest rose and fell quickly and her jaw tightened a little. She seemed to be preparing herself more verbal abuse or an  
argument.

He touched her and she flinched, her eyes sprang open. "I'm sorry, T'Pol," he said quietly. "I've been acting...,"

"Boorish?" she added helpfully.

Archer laughed. "Yeah. I guess I've really taught you the meaning of that word."

There was a twinkle in her eye as she replied, "I have heard it is a good thing to add a new word to your vocabulary every day."

He laughed again as he relaxed against the wall, feeling the tension easing from the room. She seemed to have excused his bad temper. Vulcans were a very forgiving race. Either that, he smiled to himself, or they have a lot of patience, waiting for a chance to exact revenge. He was sure T'Pol didn't have a vengeful bone in her body. Her sense of honour and dedication to duty motivated her as he had seen many times. And curiosity, he added, a warmth of feeling spreading through him as he thought about her.

A shocking speculation flashed through his mind and he tensed. They had been mentally linked several times ...was it possible she could still be reading his thoughts? He let go the breath he had been holding, assuring himself it was impossible. She would not be so forgiving if she could read his mind and see the fantasies that he harboured there whenever he glanced at her. She was wearing only a short hospital gown over what he assumed was a tank top and a pair of briefs. He only had on a t-shirt and briefs under his own gown. No, she would have let him know in no uncertain terms what she thought about his imaginings. Or would she?

That set him off on a different train of thought. What if she was hiding her feelings as he was, afraid of the consequences. He drew in a long deep breath as the memory of the kiss in their shared quarters came back with full force. If just a kiss could ignite so much passion, what would...?

T'Pol was getting up and Archer panicked. She was reading his mind! She gave him a strange look as she stepped toward the exit. He was about to explain when she stopped at the door and turned to face him.

"The buzzer has gone off, Captain. Didn't you hear it?" she said as she opened the door and went out.

* * *

T'Pol reached the turbo-lift and opened the door, hoping to avoid further contact with Archer, but he caught up to her with a few strides and grabbed the door just as it was closing.

"Nearly missed it," he said with a smile as he brushed across her, reaching to press the button to their level.

The brief contact was enough to remind T'Pol why Vulcans avoided all touch. She sensed again the erotic fever from him that she had felt in the decon chamber; a fever that stirred her, disturbed her. On Vulcan, touching was considered rude and an intrusion of privacy, though touching a Vulcan brought very different sensations than touching a human. The Vulcan gave off a sense of collected  
serenity, of ordered and disciplined thoughts, unlike the turbulence in the human nature.

T'Pol glanced quickly at Archer who seemed to be gazing off into space, the contact seemingly forgotten. Humans brushed against each other all the time, touching for no apparent reason. She wondered what sensations they received from the contact. Certainly nothing like the rush of chaotic and disturbing images she was forced to take in. Even from a short distance, their violent emotions  
could be sensed.

She began to think it was a mistake to have taken this commission on Enterprise, to be in such close quarters with the humans, constantly bombarded with their erratic and erotic emotions. And even worse, to be the target of some of those sentiments. She knew the males aboard ship looked upon her as a female, albeit an alien one; she had seen the speculation in their eyes as she caught them  
staring at her. It was shocking and she knew she would never get used to it. Among Vulcans, there would never be such thoughts. The human women were just as bad. With her keen hearing, she had picked up conversations in the mess hall where the women frankly discussed various male crew and their physical attributes.

The lift stopped and Archer politely waited for her to leave first as the door slid open. At least he didn't touch her again. With a quick smile, he strode off down the corridor toward his quarters. She noted that below the hospital gown, his bare legs seemed strong and well-formed, then mentally shook herself.

'Damn all humans,' she thought, paraphrasing the captain's earlier outburst. 'I need to meditate. I wish I was back in the Vulcan compound on Earth where at least there was peace and order, and relief from the constant pressure of the humans. These humans and their chaotic thinking are too much sometimes. And worse, I am becoming contaminated by them.'

At least her quarters were a refuge from them, her island of calm in the chaos. She pressed the button and opened the door to her room, then stopped abruptly. Seated on her bed was N'Vara. She had almost forgotten that her mother was still aboard.

N'Vara stood and touched T'Pol's fingers lightly in greeting, then dropped her hand away quickly, a look of alarm on her face. The older woman's eyes narrowed as she fixed her daughter an intense stare which softened almost immediately. She had obviously picked up some sensations, but Vulcan-like, was too polite to mention it.

"I greet you, my daughter," she said finally in the Vulcan language. "It has been nearly three Earth years since we have met. You are not a very reliable correspondent either," she chided.

T'Pol watched as N'Vara strolled around the small neat room, looking at the various artifacts that T'Pol had picked up in her travels with Enterprise. Somehow, seeing her mother handling her personal things seemed like an intrusion of her privacy. A little sense of irritation began to surface and T'Pol quickly repressed it.

"You have accumulated many things, T'Pol. Unusual for a Vulcan. Nevertheless, you will gather everything and prepare to return to Vulcan on my ship." Her eyebrows rose slightly as she seemed to note the look of surprise that T'Pol could not suppress.

With an effort of will, T'Pol asked, "Why should I return to Vulcan? Have I been recalled?" Almost involuntarily, she held her breath, waiting for the answer.

N'Vara crossed the room and stood before her daughter. Her face was grave, an aspect that T'Pol knew only too well. There was bad news coming. She steeled herself, clenching her jaw tightly.

"I suppose you know that Soval and I are rivals. He wants my position on the High Council. Until someone leaves the council, Soval has no chance for a seat. So he must get rid of a member to move up. He has chosen to try to remove me." N'Vara's voice dropped lower as she added, "Using you as a weapon, T'Pol."

She had never seen her mother show any emotion, but now N'Vara paced the room restlessly, as if trying to find the words to speak. She seemed nervous, uncertain.

"It was no accident that Enterprise was sent to that forbidden planet. Soval hoped to create an incident that would prove that I am wrong about human space travel. He has put you into many dangerous situations since Enterprise was launched, again hoping that Enterprise would fail in its missions or create an intergalactic catastrophe."

"I know that Soval does not believe that humans are ready for space travel," T'Pol replied. "But I cannot believe he would deliberately sabotage the Enterprise project to prove it. So much Vulcan technology has been built into the ship, it is almost our own vessel. Only the crew is human. Except for the doctor and myself," she added.

"He will continue to try to discredit me as the Earth contact was my project and assisting humans with space travel my idea. His most potent weapon against me is you, T'Pol. If he can bring disgrace on the family through you, I will have to resign from the Council." N'Vara wrung her hands, then sighed deeply. "That is why I am taking you off Enterprise and returning you to Vulcan. Once you have  
resigned from the military, you will be beyond Soval's power. I have arranged a diplomatic posting for you. When you have received some training, you will take up the post. And then, you may join with your bond mate."

T'Pol suddenly felt she was hanging over the edge of a precipice, looking into a deep chasm. She realised like a bolt of lightning that none of the things her mother was planning for her was what she wanted. She did not want her life path set for her; she wanted to go her own way. Though life on Enterprise was sometimes difficult, it was also exciting. Her own insatiable curiosity could be satisfied, not by studying slides under a microscope or reading in a database, but by actually seeing those wonders first hand. Yet, it was expected that she would follow her destined path.

N'Vara touched her arm and T'Pol jumped, startled. It was uncharacteristic of her mother to touch her except in some extreme circumstance. She must be very agitated. N'Vara's disquiet communicated itself to T'Pol.

"We come from an ancient and noble family, T'Pol. Our foremothers have all been leaders on Vulcan. That is your destiny, my daughter. As the bearer of the great name, T'leath'twassen'anhuk, it is your duty to fulfill that destiny. As first daughter, you are obligated to carry on the long tradition that reaches back to the mother of Surak." N'Vara took hold of both T'Pol's hands, forcing her eyes to meet her mother's. "You have always known that your duty and destiny were foreordained, T'Pol. It is time for you to do your duty to Vulcan and to your family. Begin to pack; we leave within the hour."

T'Pol withdrew her hands and moved across the room, needing some space to think. All her instincts and desires cried out against this sudden decision. She could not be forced to leave, could she? What had been set in motion already by her mother? Was her commission already lost?

Facing her mother, she said, "I do not wish to leave Enterprise, N'Vara. As science officer, I feel I am doing something important for Vulcan, guiding these humans in their first steps in space."

N'Vara made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Any other Vulcan scientist could fulfill that responsibility. You are being wasted here. What are you on this shipâ€”first officer, not the captain. This is a dead end for you, T'Pol. At your age, I was already commander of a Vulcan ship, then I transferred to the diplomatic corps. That is also your path. You must not let yourself be swayed by any loyalty to the humans; you are Vulcan. That is your first loyalty." N'Vara gave her a hard look, forcing T'Pol to steady herself without flinching. Her mother was a formidable woman, one of great power.

"Soval has questioned your loyalty to us, citing times when you sided with the humans against Vulcans. These allegations, when added up, begin to cause suspicion, get recorded and remembered, and worst of all, reflect badly on your family. Our allegiance to Vulcan has never before been questioned. There must be no uncertainty about your loyalty, T'Pol."

T'Pol straightened, incensed that anyone could question her loyalty to her home world. It was illogical to assume she had changed allegiances just because she was a member of a human crew. "I could no more be human, than a human could be Vulcan," she assured her mother. "There is too much difference between us. They do not want to be like us, anymore than we want to be like them."

An errant thought drifted through her mind of the captain's order for her to 'fraternise' with the rest of the crew. Somewhat amused, she recalled being forced to watch a horror film about a monster created of human parts. It had taken some time to understand the film and then, Archer and Tucker had been less than enthusiastic about her conclusions. Comparing the way the villagers had treated Frankenstein's monster to the way Vulcans were treated at first on Earth, seemed to insult the two men. The occasion had made her see that there was an unbridgeable distance between humans and Vulcans, and it was likely to stay that way for a long time.

N'Vara broke into her thoughts with, "We do not have much time, T'Pol. Pack what you want to take with you, and meet me in the launch bay. Our shuttle is waiting there."

T'Pol planted her feet more firmly and took a deep breath. 'I have said I do not wish to leave Enterprise. I know this disappoints you and I am sorry, but I have decided to walk my own path instead of the one that was set for me from birth. I will stay with the ship as science officer."

For a moment, something like anger flashed through N'Vara's eyes. In a low voice, she said, "Do not make this mistake, T'Pol. Your career will suffer; you will go nowhere. Soval will see to that."

T'Pol swallowed and tried to moisten her mouth. It had gone dry. It was the first time since she was a child that she had disobeyed her mother and she was frightened by her own audacity. Centuries of tradition tempted her to do what her mother wanted. But her own obstinate nature would not allow it. "Then, I must take the only logical alternative; resign from Vulcan Space Command and enlist in Starfleet. My rank will be the same. I am sure it can be easily arranged by Captain Archer and Admiral Forrest."

N'Vara's mouth opened slightly then closed. "You cannot be serious! Think about what you are throwing away the chance to be a leader of your people, to have your name lauded through the centuries. For what? To be a science officer on a human ship?"

She stared directly into T'Pol's eyes. "I had a sense that there was something between you and Captain Archer. I hope I am wrong. Such a liaison would bring shame on both of you. And you know, T'Pol, when you eventually join with your bond mate, you must be untouched as he will be."

Her words seemed to strike T'Pol like an arrow in the heart. With difficulty, she replied, "There is nothing improper in my relationship with the captain. I doubt if he even sees me as a female. As to joining with a bond mate, I have chosen that I will not. As long as I am with Enterprise, that plays no part in my life."

She lifted her chin and looked her mother in the eye. "It will have to be my younger sibling on whom the duty rests to fulfill the family obligations. Your dreams will be realised by T'Pau."

* * *

Archer sighed wearily as he zipped his jacket while stepping out of the turbo-lift. He strode into the launch bay where the Vulcans were waiting -impatiently, he notedâ€”pacing around the large space near their shuttle. If he had been impressed by Commissioner N'Vara before, he was doubly impressed now. She had an aura of dignity and command about her, regally draped in a burgundy robe of some fine material that whispered as she walked. When he entered, she turned and halted.

"Captain Archer." She stood and waited as he approached.

'Like she's the queen and I'm some lackey', he thought a little sourly. His mood had hardly improved in the last half hour. T'Pol hadn't spoken to him after they left the decon chamber as if he had done something wrong. Back in the deep freeze again. He was still uncertain if she had been reading his somewhat risque thoughts. Mentally, he changed gears as he stopped in front of the Vulcans.

"Commissioner N'Vara," he said, raising his hand in a natural impulse to take hers. He dropped it when he caught the warning look in her eyes. Of course she wouldn't want to shake his hand. That would be touching, a Vulcan taboo. He decided to try the old Archer charm on her. With a smile, he added, "It's too bad you couldn't stay longer. I'm sure Sub-commander T'Pol would have enjoyed  
showing you around the ship, and spending a little more time with you. I would have enjoyed that myself. It isn't often we get such an illustrious person such as yourself on Enterprise."

She raised her eyebrow a notch and simply stared blankly at him. 'So much for charm,' he thought ruefully. It never worked on T'Pol either. Back to business. Dropping his voice to a more serious tone, he said, "Commissioner, I need to know what happened on Cephara. I'm compiling my report to Starfleet and need that information from you. What did you do in the labs?"

N'Vara regarded him for several seconds, then said, "Whatever we did is classified, Captain Archer, a Vulcan matter. Your report is irrelevant. My report will state that the planet is contaminated by virulent toxins that are deadly to all life forms. From this day forward, all ships will be warned that the planet must never be contacted. No matter how urgent their pleas for help. In a century or so, the planet may be habitable again. It may regenerate and new life forms will arise. The present inhabitants will eventually become extinct."

Her calm dismissal of an entire species rankled Archer, but there was nothing he could do. Or, in all honesty, wanted to do after what they tried to do to T'Pol. N'Vara was probably right, but it seemed pretty hard-assed, just leaving them to die off without trying to save them. For now, the Vulcans were calling the shots for Starfleet and he knew that Admiral Forrest would tell him to act discreetly with N'Vara and not create an incident. N'Vara seemed to be a powerful woman and she could make trouble. Even worse, she might be able to remove T'Pol from Enterprise. That thought hit him hard in the gut. He would tread carefully around N'Vara.

Seeming to see his reluctance, N'Vara continued, "The Cepharans are victims of their own success. They made the toxins that are destroying them..."

"With Vulcan help," Archer interjected. Immediately he wished he could take the hasty words back. The commissioner fixed him with a steely look.

"Yes, Captain Archer, with Vulcan help. We did not understand the nature of the Cepharans at the time. There were certain important minerals on Cephara that we needed. That seemed to be the overriding factor in the decision to work with them. We have learned our lesson, as you will learn yours as you venture further into space and meet other species."

She turned to the Vulcan who was standing near their shuttle. "Take your place in the craft, Commander Linak. I will join you in a moment after a private word with Captain Archer."

Archer's stomach clenched as he wondered what she was about to tell him. If she wanted to take T'Pol, he was prepared to do whatever he could to keep her. She was too valuable to the mission to lose, especially now when the crew was developing into a tightly knit team. Despite her own nature, T'Pol seemed to be loosening up a little. Away from other Vulcans, she seemed to be more relaxed,  
even trying something as un-Vulcan as taking some popcorn at the film, eating with her fingers. He wondered what N'Vara would think of that.

Even though Linak was out of earshot, N'Vara moved closer and dropped her voice. "Captain Archer, I have a dreamâ€”to create a confederation of all the planets in this galaxy; to engender harmony among all species. It will be an arduous task and I may not live long enough to see this dream fulfilled. I hoped it would T'Pol who would make this vision a reality."

She clasped her hands together and Archer could that she was tense though her face showed no emotion. He was also tensing, wondering where this was going. Was she about to tell him that T'Pol was being recalled to Vulcan, to take up some position in the government? He knew his science officer had made a good name for herself in security and that a diplomatic post had been offered to her. Instead, she had agreed to stay on Enterprise temporarily. A heavy feeling gripped his chest as he anticipated the blowâ€”that T'Pol would leave Enterprise for a more advantageous career on Vulcan. Well, why wouldn't she? Her mother was an important figure in the government; it was only natural that her daughter would be as ambitious, would want to follow in her footsteps. With her intelligence  
and drive, T'Pol could go far, even exceeding her mother. The confederation was a great idea and he wouldn't stand in T'Pol's way of realising it. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to let her go.

His voice sounded heavy to his ears, as he said, "Your dream is an admirable one and I would be willing to help in any way I can. You can count on me, Commissioner. I suppose you will be taking T'Pol with you when you leave." He wrenched the last sentence from his gut, already feeling a sense of loss. It took all his willpower to keep his body still and his face impassive. It wouldn't do for N'Vara to know what this was costing him.

A fleeting look of sadness crossed her face as she gazed into his eyes as if searching for something. She took a deep breath and said, "T'Pol has refused to do her duty to her nation and to her mother. She will remain on Enterprise. In doing so, she will lose her Vulcan commission, but expects that Starfleet will give her an equal rank in its own command. Naturally, I am disappointed in her. A mother expects her daughter to be obedient and dutiful. Since she was a child, T'Pol has been neither. Her curiosity and intelligence have gotten into many difficulties, but I never expected this. I had assumed that when she was of age, she would fulfill her obligations to her family. I was wrong. Perhaps, if I had exerted more discipline, she would have been different; perhaps not."

Archer noted the bitterness and sadness under her voice. Though he felt sorry for her, his own spirits soared. With a tough choice between Vulcan and Enterprise, T'Pol had chosen Enterprise. He didn't know what her reasons were, but his relief was so great, it was all he could do not to laugh out loud.

In a surprise move, N'Vara clasped both sides of his face. Reflexively, Archer put his fingers on her temples, knowing she wanted to mind link with him.

"Take care of T'Pol, Captain Archer," she whispered in his mind. "She is the most precious thing in the world to me." With that, she dropped her hands, and turning, strode to the shuttle without a backward glance.

* * *

Archer took a quick loot at his science officer as the Vulcan ship moved away, then jumped to warp and vanished. He hadn't expected to see any change in her expression but it was there fleetingly as she watched her mother's vessel disappear. Was it regret or relief? He couldn't tell.

Ensign Sato said, "Communication from Starfleet, sir. Admiral Forrest. Rated non-classified."

"Put it on screen, Ensign." Archer smiled as the face of the admiral popped onto the view screen. "Hello, Admiral. How are you?"

"Just fine, Captain." Archer noted the admiral smiled a little tightly as if forcing himself. "I wanted to congratulate you and Sub-commander T'Pol for the success of the mission."

Archer was dumbfounded and confused. How could they call it a success? He had nearly got them both killed, and just about as bad, had almost let the Cepharans use their DNA to start a new species. Talk about contamination! A little hesitantly, he said, "Thank you, sir. We had a lot of help from the Vulcans. I'll be sending you my report in a few hours."

The admiral frowned and then continued, "Your report won't be necessary. We already have the Vulcan report and that about covers it." Forrest looked down and took a deep breath, then added, "I've sent the co-ordinates for your next mission. Leave orbit from that planet right away. Also, Jon, the Vulcans have given us some modifications for the warp engine. It'll take you to warp faster and apparently, use less fuel. I'm sending the specs to you now. So, you can get engineering to work on it immediately and report back on your progress."

Archer was irate and hot with fury; sweat popped out on his brow. 'The damned interfering Vulcans! They already sent the report on the mission, probably skewing it to sound like a rescue of the poor immature humans who got themselves into a scrape. Then, they tossed a little technological bone our way, an improvement to the warp engine; something they likely had for a long time, just held it back as always.'

Clenching his jaw, he forced himself not to look at T'Pol. This drove another wedge between them. As long as she was working for the Vulcan Space Command, she seemed be in an enemy camp almost. Wrestling with his inner turmoil, he wished he had her detachment. Right now he wanted to punch something, hard.

"Aye, aye sir," he ground out to the admiral. Forrest's image switched off and the screen returned to a view of the star field.

For a few seconds, he remained in his chair, drumming his fingers on the arm. He could feel the eyes of the crew on him, probably wondering why he was so tense. Finally, he got up and looked at T'Pol. "Meet me in the ready room, Sub-commander. Mr. Reed, you have the bridge." Without waiting for T'Pol, he strode out into the corridor and then entered the Captain's Ready Room. She was only a few steps behind.

* * *

The door to the ready room had hardly closed before Archer whirled on T'Pol. N'Vara had said his report would be irrelevant but he hadn't picked up on her cue, hadn't understood what she meant. He knew he was tired and overwrought but he was also very angry. He turned on the Vulcan before him, the symbol of that arrogant and disdainful race which had plagued his existence since he was a child.

As usual, T'Pol took a rigid stance, with her hands folded behind her. Her breasts thrust out like a challenge, challenging him to look. And of course he did, then looked away and started pacing, trying to get a hold on his anger. The forbidden inducement of that luscious body only made him angrierâ€”look but don't touch. Finally, he growled, "I want to know what was in that report!"

"I can't tell you," she replied quietly as her eyes followed him.

"You mean you won't!" he flung back. With fierce satisfaction, he noted that she seemed to flinch away as if he had struck her.

Icily calm, she said, "I mean I cannot since I do not know what was in it."

"You're telling me that during your mother-daughter chat, you and N'Vara didn't decide what to put in it? How to phrase it so the Vulcans came out squeaky clean?"

Her eyes skimmed over him, their dark depths telling him she thought he was acting like an irrational fool. He knew that. He just couldn't seem to stop himself; the words spilled out almost before he could think.

"N'Vara and I spoke of personal matters. The report was never mentioned." She studied him for a moment, then added, "That is the truth."

Wearily, he passed his hand over his eyes. That simple statement seemed to deflate his wrath. She never lied to him, only evaded the truth sometimes. He trusted her completely and knew she was telling the truth now. Moving closer, he said, "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I flew off the handle at you and I apologise." Softening his tone, he added, "Your ...I mean Commissioner N'Vara told me about her dream of a confederation of planets. It's a great vision and I promised to help her in any way I can ...even to letting you go to fulfill that dream."

T'Pol drew in a sharp breath, her alarmed eyes fastening on him. "And did you?"

"She told me that you wanted to stay on Enterprise as the first officer. It's your life, T'Pol. It's up to you to decide what to do with it." " He was afraid of the answer to the question that had been burning in his mind ever since N'Vara had told him about T'Pol's decision. But he had to know. His heart lurched a little as he said, "What I don't understand is why. Why would you give up such a golden opportunity as working toward the confederation of planets to stay on a space ship? It doesn't seem logical to me."

It seemed that she almost smiled at his use of the word 'logical'. Her stance relaxed as she brought her hands around to the front, a gesture of unconscious body language that he read as trust.

"N'Vara is a great woman, Captain Archer. I revere her and admire her. In her life, she has already accomplished much, including the Earth project. When you have such greatness, you make enemies. Do not assume that Vulcans are perfect. Far from it. We have many faults though most of us try to eliminate them. Vulcans commit theft, murder, they lie and cheat, they have ambitions and lusts. This is aberrant behaviour and we try to rehabilitate such individuals. Some are beyond help." She clenched her jaw and looked away for a second then returned to hold Archer's gaze. "Soval is one such individual. He is powerful and has a firm hold on the military through his connections. He wants to displace N'Vara. He has been using me against her. I must stop him in the only way I can. By resigning from the Vulcan Space Command."

Her fists tightened and she drew in a deep breath. "I am not like my mother. She is a diplomat, a politician. I am a scientist. I have known since I was a child that is what I wanted to be. I cannot be like her though she wants me to join her in this great dream. It would be false of me to try. My life path is not hers."

Deep sadness hid within her eyes and Archer's heart squeezed with sympathy for her. She seemed vulnerable suddenly, in the throes of such inner turmoil he wanted to reach out to her. Softly, he said, "It must have been very hard for you to turn her down."

"It was," she said after a few seconds pause, her voice scarcely audible. She shivered, her eyes almost pleading for help, for understanding.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and enfolded her in his arms. He was as surprised by his move as she was. She straightened rigidly and began to push him away.

"T'Pol," he whispered near her ear. "When humans need help, they reach out to their friends and gain strength from each other. Use my strength. Let me help you get through this...as a friend." He smiled against her hair as she relaxed and sighed. He could almost feel her drawing energy from him. Maybe it was a residual effect from the mind link. Wanting to comfort her, he said, "Your mother loves you and is proud of you."

He felt her move convulsively, shocked. She leaned back to look into his eyes. "She said so?"

"Not in so many words. She asked me to look after you."

Her mouth made a silent 'o' and she leaned back against him. She trembled and clutched his jacket and he sensed a tremendous struggle raging inside her as she tried to repress her emotions. Eventually, she began to withdraw from him and he let her go.

"Captain, I request permission to return to my quarters. I need some time to myself."

He smiled. "Of course, take all the time you need." As she was leaving, he said, "I'll send a signal to Admiral Forrest, to get started on your re-assignment to Starfleet." He paused, then added, "If that's what you really want."

For a long moment she looked at him then around the ready room, taking everything in. "It is," she said then left.

Archer stared at the closed door, thinking about the past few minutes. Everything suddenly seemed to have changed. She would leave Vulcan Space Command and enter Starfleet. There would be bureaucratic red tape and administrative nonsense to get through, but soon she would really belong to the crew. To him. His heart flipped strangely at the thought. When he had held her, it felt so right, so good. Her softness and warmth filled him with desire; her vulnerability made him want to protect her. He realised with a great rushing sensation that he had fallen in love with her. The thought stunned him, immobilised him. Then a wide foolish grin crossed his face. 'Whatever the future brings, at least we'll be together.'


End file.
